The Wandsmiths
by FitzDizzyspells8
Summary: (Formerly titled The Ollivanders) Todd Ollivander can't seem to shake his feelings for the new apprentice at his father's wand shop. It's not a good time to be distracted, as it's becoming abundantly clear that Ollivander's is a major target of Lord Voldemort's during the First Wizarding War. (I say which chapters are my best at the start of Chapter 1.)
1. The Ravenclaw Common Room

A/N: I'm here to finally publish a very, very old headcanon of mine. This story is book-compliant, but not Pottermore-compliant. For those who like to skip around to get a sense of a fic, I believe my best chapters so far are Chapter 7: The Unicorn Hunt, Chapter 9: Severus Snape, Chapter 15: The Duel, and Chapter 21: Todd's Plan.

* * *

It was the night before their Easter holidays, and the Ravenclaw common room was unusually jovial.

Roughly a hundred students had gathered by the fire in Ravenclaw Tower, unwilling to let the wind and rain, which was clattering in torrents against the graceful arched windows, dampen their high spirits. Groups of students were watching several games of wizard chess while an enchanted gramophone played disco music. Several people had pulled the high-backed chairs into circles, having impassioned conversations that vacillated from shouting matches to fits of laughter. For once, essays, revising and assigned readings could wait.

Todd Ollivander would have taken his books up to his room ages ago, but Derek Malkin had reserved the Seventh Year boy's dormitory for the time being, while he and his girlfriend made the most of their last day together before they would soon be apart for an unbearable two weeks. Todd tried to block out the noise in the common room and concentrate on the book he was pouring over for the thousandth time.

In two days, he was going to assist in nonfatal surgery to procure a heartstring from a living dragon. While he had been preparing for this for years and knew he could do it, he had to be sure that he was ready for any worst-case scenario. His father wasn't one to give second chances.

Giggling, Maggie Gibson had jumped up brightly and begun to dance by the fire with another Fifth Year girl as the music played. She practically glowed in the firelight, which was bringing out the shades of auburn in her brown curly hair.

'Will you turn off that bloody Muggle music?' bellowed a Sixth Year, who was hunched over a chessboard. Several of the students near him hollered in agreement.

Maggie frowned, deflated. She squeezed through some tables and chairs, making her way toward the gramophone. She tapped it with her wand, grumbling a few words, and an upbeat rock song came on, the first wizarding song of the night.

As she turned back toward her group, she caught Todd staring. He looked away quickly, turning his attention back to the moving photo of a pumping dragon heart. The wizarding song was blaring. ' _Atop my broomstick we'll ride_ / _I want a_ _frantic, wild, mad thrilling ride / With you the world's magnified...'_

Just as he was attempting to refocus his thoughts again, Maggie was standing in front of him, bending her head down toward his textbook, waving energetically. 'Hello?' It suddenly occurred to him that she might've been trying to wave at him since she caught his eye.

Caught off guard, he said nothing. Maggie looked down at the book, intrigued. 'Wow. Dragon anatomy?' She examined the page Todd was looking at. Her finger traced one of the intricate heartstrings connected to the Horntail's heart. 'You have such a fantastic life ahead of you,' she murmured. 'I couldn't think of a better job in the wizarding world.'

Todd was still silent. His brain was having trouble processing what she was saying while she was so close to him. Lately, Maggie seemed to have been coming up with reasons to come over and speak with him, and Todd was beginning to allow himself to recognise what that might mean.

'I met with Professor Flitwick today. We had our careers advice meeting in the morning.' Suddenly, Maggie was looking uncharacteristically nervous. She picked at a dent in the mahogany table where Todd was sitting. 'I always thought I could work for the Ministry, or maybe even manufacture Floo powder. Or, I also like the idea of building wizard homes, setting up the extension charms for those, that sort of thing.'

Maggie looked a little unnerved by Todd's lack of engagement in this conversation. He racked his brains for something relevant to say, but came up blank. She took a deep breath.

'But Flitwick asked me what my dream job would be, and what I would do if I could do anything I wanted to do,' she said, her words tumbling out quickly. 'And – and that was an easy question. I've always been interested in your kind of work – what you do. At Ollivander's? But I always assumed it was just a family business. But Flitwick said that's not the case at all.'

She looked at him hopefully. Todd's brain was working slowly.

'Yes. We hire people outside our family,' he said, adjusting his glasses in front of his silvery eyes. 'Yes, yeah. Wait. Was that your question?'

She looked embarrassed, which made Todd even more confused.

'And what makes a person qualified, though?' she asked, timidly. 'Hogwarts doesn't teach wandlore at anywhere near the level that a person would need to even come close to understanding how to make one. But it must be a huge operation, Ollivander's.'

'Erm, somewhat, yeah. I mean, it's not – it's not huge, no. There are about twenty different people who work there. Gatherers, Beast Hunters, wandsmiths, that sort of thing. I mean, we – yeah. No, you don't have to be an Ollivander to work there. No. Loads of people work there.'

She seemed intently fascinated by what Todd was saying.

'Yeah, loads of people work there. You could work there, definitely,' Todd continued, gaining steam. He was happy to encourage her. It was easy to see that she was talented enough to have a shot at working at the shop. 'You have a better understanding of enchantment theory than anyone else in your year. Or my year. Or anyone's year. I mean, yes, yeah. I've seen that Muggle writer-typer thingy you enchanted –'

'Typewriter,' Maggie corrected, grinning. She looked delighted, and Todd realised he had been unconsciously smiling along with her.

'Typer-writer, right. And everyone's seen what you did to that pair of boots you have, that was brilliant. And that record-less gramophone of yours, of course –' he said, nodding at the gramophone '– you bewitched that in, what, your Third Year? You're very skilled at enchanting objects. You should definitely apply for an apprenticeship at Ollivander's.'

She looked at him, agape. 'Really? You think I... I could be an apprentice? At Ollivander's?'

'Yeah, of course.' Todd looked down at his textbook. Who was he kidding, he knew this thing by heart. He closed it on the desk.

'Wow.' Maggie looked happily dazed for a moment. 'So, what N.E.W.T.s do I need to be qualified? I assume Charms and Transfiguration? Maybe Care of Magical Creatures too?'

Todd nodded. 'Yeah, those all make for a good foundation. But honestly, you learn such complex magic over your seven years as an apprentice that –'

'Seven years?!'

'Well, yeah, of course,' Todd said. He was surprised to see how shocked she was. 'As you said, Hogwarts doesn't come close to offering the level of training you'd need to create an object as powerful and complex as a wand.'

Maggie stared off into space for a moment, thinking. Moments passed. Todd, not knowing what to do, awkwardly reopened the book in front of him.

'Is that why you didn't come to Hogwarts until you were fifteen?' she asked him, suddenly returning to their conversation. 'You began your apprenticeship early?'

Todd nodded.

'I always just assumed your father was tutoring you,' she said, thoughtfully. 'You probably couldn't ask for a better professor than Mr Ollivander.'

'Well, my dad did handle my education until I was fifteen, but yeah, I've been apprenticing as well,' Todd said. He wasn't eager to unpack her statement, that he couldn't ask for a better professor than his dad. 'That's why I was able to jump right into Fifth Year classes when I arrived. I had learnt everything that Hogwarts teaches up to Fourth Year, but there were certain N.E.W.T.-level Potions skills my dad didn't know that he thought were worth learning. Plus, I was really intrigued when Dumbledore hired Professor Burbage to teach Muggle Studies, her research is –'

Todd stopped talking. Maggie's hand was on his arm, and he had completely lost his train of thought.

'So you don't have to be of age when you start your apprenticeship?' she asked excitedly. 'Could I start now? Maybe over the summer? I would love to go to Hogwarts and be an apprentice simultaneously. Like you do.'

Todd opened his mouth, then closed it again. 'That would be sort of unprecedented…' he said trailing off. He was imagining Maggie spending the entire summer with him in Diagon Alley, while he impressed her with his knowledge of wand theory, of which a Hogwarts education really only scratched the surface. Giving an awestruck Maggie a tour of the bustling Ollivander's workshop and warehouse. Travelling with her to China. Raising his wand and telling her to stand behind him, that she was safe as long as she was with him while he surveyed one of the enormous Chinese Fireball dragons as Maggie clung tightly to his arm.

'I'll ask,' he said, brightly.

Maggie looked thrilled and relieved. 'Thank you! And,' she shook her head, as if she didn't believe him, 'thank you for saying all those nice things about me. You really think I'm good enough?'

'Of course,' Todd said, somewhat baffled. She was two years below him, but even so, he was familiar enough with her to know she was one of the brightest students at Hogwarts.

And, proving his point, she gave him a grateful smile, clicked the heels of her boots, rose six inches off the ground, and glided up the nearby staircase to the girls' dormitory as gracefully as a ghost.

Todd watched her go, and he started when he realised that Derek Malkin was sitting in the chair across the table from him.

'Bit of an odd duck, that one,' Derek said glumly, watching as the last of Maggie's robes whipped around the corner.

'That's not an easy charm to perform,' Todd said, admiring the magic.

'Wingardium Leviosa? That's not an easy charm to perform?' Derek raised his eyebrows, dully incredulous.

'No, no, it's not a Levitation Charm. She isn't levitating herself. She isn't levitating her shoes either,' he said, absentmindedly running a hand along the side of his stubbly face. He'd been forgetting to regularly use hair-vanishing cream lately as his surgery trials got closer. 'The shoes are enchanted with a Flying Charm. It's the kind of charm used on broomsticks, and I would say that her charm is as good as anything on a Nimbus 1000, if not better. Have you seen how easily she can speed up, slow down, make turns? Really impressive.'

Derek grunted, uninterested.

'Malkin,' Todd rolled his eyes, exasperated. 'You'll see Cecilia in two weeks. The world isn't going to end.'

Derek scowled. He tapped his wand against his leg distractedly, while blue sparks shot out.

'I've been dumped, mate.'

'Oh!' Todd said, surprised. Derek stared glumly at the table and sighed. 'Oh,' he said again, giving Derek a sympathetic look.

Out of the corner of Todd's eye, he saw Cecilia slink down the staircase of the boys' dormitory in the shadows. She gave her friends a small, guilty smile, and the group of them made their way, whispering, up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Todd shot them a dark look. He reached over and clapped Derek on the shoulder. 'Ah, well. Bad luck, mate, but we'll be back in Diagon Alley soon. Let's drown your sorrows at the Leaky Cauldron as soon as I'm finished with these bloody surgery trials.'


	2. Ollivander's

And drown them they did. Partly to celebrate Todd's roaring success in obtaining a dragon heartstring from a Hungarian Horntail – who was now recovering just fine – and partly to commiserate with Derek – who was already beginning to be cheered by the thought of asking out a couple Gryffindor girls he thought he had a shot with – the two of them had decided to say to hell with revising for their N.E.W.T.s and instead enjoy their time in Diagon Alley. On Thursday, they managed to get completely sloshed before Tom the landlord had to throw them, giggling, out into the street that night, muttering about 'youths'.

Todd awoke in his bedroom to a pounding headache and an exceedingly dry mouth. The sun was blazing through his window, and he could hear the sounds of the crew coming from the floor below.

He fumbled for his glasses before staggering toward the bathroom, washing up and getting dressed in Ollivander's dark green apprentice robes. Hazy thoughts of his attempts to send a couple suggestive, drunken notes he'd scribbled to Maggie last night came to mind, and he remembered with relief that Derek had ultimately batted the owl away as Todd struggled to tie the letter to its leg. Derek, who had a lot of friends, always looked out for Todd, who didn't really have any other friends, in a way that Todd was truly grateful for. Derek did have some dubious values, which got on Todd's nerves sometimes, but they'd been best mates their entire lives, and Todd never ceased to be surprised and relieved that Derek always kept Todd by his side, no matter how many friends he made and girls he chased at Hogwarts.

Still, Todd couldn't help but think that a drunken letter from him might not be so poorly received. His eyes slid over to his desk and to the two letters from Maggie, in their almost book-like font from her peculiar little typing machine, that he'd already gotten from her over the Easter holidays. She kept asking him questions about Ollivander's, and he'd probably shared a bit too much information with her for someone who wasn't yet an apprentice, but he shrugged it off. He knew she would be accepted and working here soon enough. She was an extremely bright witch. And once she was working here... well, who knows what would happen next.

Despite his physical state, Todd whistled as he made himself a cup of tea, adding a teaspoon of _Croke's Tonic for the Queasy, Peaky, Rotten and Below-Par_ , and headed down the wrought-iron spiral staircase. He could already hear Watts and Coakley getting into it.

'All these materials, wasted! They're bloody tainted noo!' Coakley said, holding several wands and waving them at Watts, who was staring back coldly. 'Standardisation is the enemy of wandlore! I'm probably infected just by touching 'em!' Disgusted, Coakley scattered the wands onto a nearby table.

'There's no reason to carve them all individually,' Watts said, his voice a forced calm. 'I don't know how many times I have to say it. We're not putting _more_ care into things just because we're doing the work _less_ efficiently.'

'We're no' making fucking _pencils_ , ye half wit!' Coakley was seething. As the men argued, Todd made his way over to Miss Haeyoun Kim, the shop's second-in-command, who was calmly gripping her wand in the unusual way that Todd had grown accustomed to, as a block of ash wood turned, beginning to take the shape of a wand in mid-air. Several of Miss Kim's unformed fingers were curled around her wand with her thumb primarily holding it in place in her hand. Todd raised his mug to her, and she winked at him.

The image before them was one with which they were both very familiar: Coakley, who was shorter than Watts, looked a bit deranged, his hair grey and disheveled and half his face coated with a thick burn scar. Watts was black and stately, with dreadlocks pulled back into a neat ponytail. Each man wore dusty black wandsmith's robes.

'I know I'll be deid in ma grave before you get this through your thick skull, but I'll no' sit here and let you disgrace the name of Ollivander! We gie each wand a life a its own – they need tae be crafted _individually_ because they are _individuals_ –'

'Don't lecture me on wandlore,' Watts snapped. 'You know that cutting slats in a block of wood is not standardisation. I let the magic guide me, just as we do when we're carving them individually, but this way I can actually pay some heed to our scarce resources and reduce the massive amount of waste we're currently guilty of!'

'I'll no' let you compromise the integrity of Ollivander's wands!' Coakley roared.

'You don't have a say in what I do or don't do, you've no authority over me!'

'No. But I do,' said Garrick Ollivander, who was ascending the spiral staircase from the floor below. The men whipped around, and even Todd choked on his tea. Mr Ollivander's presence had a tendency to startle people into a dignified state, and it was usually enough to temporarily put any rows between Coakley and Watts to rest.

'I am sympathetic to your anxieties, John,' said Mr Ollivander, who had either perfectly heard Watts' arguments from below or was simply very familiar with this particular gripe of his. 'The trees we fell are precious and –'

'– and we can't assume we'll have our pick of the best wood in the most magical areas forever,' Watts interjected, defensively.

'That being said,' Ollivander said. His tone was kind, but resolute. 'When a wandsmith gives one wand his individual attention at a time, it has the best results. And that is why they have to be carved individually. And so,' he said, walking toward Watts, 'you'll kindly hand over the wands that you have already taken the liberty of cutting in a standardised way.'

Watts looked crestfallen.

'Oh, now that's not fair!' Todd cut in desperately. 'Watts's whole reason for doing this was to be economical, and now you're just going to throw away all those materials?'

'I am not going to throw them away,' his father said, giving Todd a warning look. 'I am going to set them aside, and possibly test them. But we cannot distribute these to the public if there's even a chance that they'll be second-rate.'

Resigned, Watts started pulling out a couple boxes from beneath his work station. 'Just try them out on a few customers,' he pleaded. 'If it's not right for them, it won't take. But how can we know for sure unless we try?'

'I will not take the risk of sending a witch or wizard on their way with a substandard wand, possibly for the rest of their lives,' Ollivander said. 'And that is that. Todd, help me transport these to the warehouse. There was something you wanted to speak to me about, yes?'

Todd got up to help his father. He shot Watts a sympathetic look, but Watts just looked at the boxes glumly as Todd and Mr Ollivander gathered them up. The two Ollivanders turned on the spot and Apparated to the shop's warehouse, hidden miles away in a wooded area thanks to the Fidelius Charm. Mr Ollivander and Todd stepped through the trees toward the enormous storage house. Todd saw a squirrel scamper toward the structure before it seemed to grow confused, turning away and heading in the other direction.

Mr Ollivander walked through the door, gesturing for Todd to bring the boxes inside, putting them near a very lonely corner. He took out a quill and marked the boxes ' _standardised'._

'So,' he said, brushing the dust off his robes. 'Who is this witch who wants to work for us?'

Todd massaged his temples. 'Do you mind if we do this over tea? I'm feeling a bit out-of-sorts right now, and I just made a brew up at the flat.'

'Mmm, out-of-sorts.' Mr Ollivander looked at him sardonically. 'Very well. It will probably be a short conversation, though. If she's underage, it's simple. The answer is no, not yet.'

Todd sighed as his father checked the protective charms with satisfaction before turning on the spot. Todd Apparated after him.

'Why not, though?' Todd said, as soon as he reappeared in the wandsmiths' workshop. 'She's sixteen, she's far older than I was when I started.'

Mr Ollivander shook his head. 'You are different. You are an exception.'

'She's –' Todd stopped himself from saying 'better.' 'She's nearly as good as I am at bewitching objects, and her understanding of charm theory is far beyond her years. She's clearly ready and eager to understand wandlore at a more advanced level. So why not let her start now?'

Mr Ollivander looked slightly irritated. His silvery eyes flashed. 'Do you think it was easy, convincing the Ministry to lift the underage magic rules for you?'

Coakley snorted. 'Probably,' he muttered. 'Seeing as the Ministry thinks the sun shines oot a every orifice ye've got.'

Watts shot Coakley a look.

Mr Ollivander shook his head. 'You are naive to be so eager to bring on friends without a thought to the danger to which you are introducing them.' He looked at Todd darkly, and Todd looked away. He _had_ felt safe lately. They hadn't been attacked in years, but his father was right to point out that this was a false sense of security.

Mr Ollivander sighed. 'These are times of uncertainty.' He looked weary. 'I worry that Ollivander's will soon be pulled into this war. It is, I believe, inevitable. Soon, I think… very soon… I shall have to ask far more of this crew than this institution ever has before.'

He looked at Todd, who looked down and nodded, understanding. 'I will not bring an underage witch under that cloud. I'm happy to meet her and to speak with her beforehand. But she cannot start here until the summer before her Seventh Year, at the absolute earliest. Now,' he turned to face the crowd, 'let's attempt to make one or two wands today, if that's not asking too much of everyone.'

The wandsmiths, who had been listening closely, returned, guiltily, to their work. After surveying the shop for a moment, Mr Ollivander made his way back downstairs. Coakley looked up at Todd.

'So, this lass,' Coakley said, his eyes glinting mischievously. 'What is it about her that makes you so eager tae grant her early entry intae Ollivander's? Is it her knowledge a charm _theory_ , or a different kind a charm?'

Todd saw the corners of Watts' mouth twitch. 'She's an incredibly bright witch,' Todd said defensively. 'She has the makings of a wandsmith. We'd be lucky to have her.'

'Well, for your sake and Ollivander's, I hope you're right,' Coakley said. 'When it comes tae bringing people on, just make sure you're thinking with your brain, and no' with any other body part.'

Watts laughed and put a reassuring hand on Todd's shoulder, handing him a jar containing the preserved dragon heartstring Todd had procured yesterday morning. 'One day, lad,' Watts said theatrically, spreading one of his arms as if surveying a kingdom, 'all this bollocks will be yours.'


	3. Alice and Maggie

As usual, Maggie, Alice and Frank were pushing their luck, lingering in the Great Hall long past dinner hours. The Easter holidays were nearly over, and Todd had returned to Hogwarts that morning. Maggie had already filled Alice and Frank in on everything he had told her – she couldn't start at Ollivander's until she was 17, but Mr Ollivander would be willing to meet with her over the summer to interview her and, possibly, to begin making plans for her apprenticeship.

'I'm glad you've finally realised that you're a real witch,' Alice said, laughing and rolling her eyes. 'Because you're ten times better than most. I hate that you always think you're a second-class citizen.'

'Right, where could I have got that idea from?' Maggie said, raising her eyebrows. 'I learnt the word "Mudblood" before I learnt what the word "Quidditch" meant.'

Alice and Frank exchanged dark looks. The two of them were cuddling closely, as usual. Maggie would have thought it impossible, but Frank and Alice had become even more attached at the hip in the past couple of weeks since Frank had proposed, and though she would never admit it to them, Maggie'd had a terrible case of the third-wheel blues lately.

'Things didn't used to be like this,' Frank said gravely. 'Things have changed so much over just a few years. Those "NO MUDBLOODS ALLOWED" signs that we sometimes see in Hogsmeade and Knockturn Alley – those popped up just a year before you came to Hogwarts, do you know that?'

'Yeah. I do know that.'

'And,' Alice added, 'you know that half the people that hang them just do so under threats from Death Eaters.'

'Yes. I also know that the other half were more than happy to hang them.'

'And you know,' Alice pressed, 'that no sign like that has ever, ever hung in the windows of Ollivander's shop.'

'You know, Alice,' Maggie said, smiling wearily, 'your method of trying to cheer me up is just to tell me how wrong I am, over and over and over again.'

'My point is, you only ever think of the people who are against you. You need to remember that there are also people on your side, too.'

Maggie stared off into space for a bit. 'Even now, I still think it's possible that, any year, I could be kicked out of school. People like Avery and Mulciber aren't afraid to tell me that the Muggle-borns won't be welcome at Hogwarts forever. But today... today I was just told that I might have a chance at becoming a wandsmith someday.'

Alice and Maggie grinned at each other, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them again: lingering in parts of the castle for too long, talking and whispering to each other far too late, until professors caught them and took points from their respective Houses. Lately, though, Alice and Frank had been spending a lot of time in the Gryffindor common room, and Maggie had been hanging around a group of Fifth Year Ravenclaw girls who were fine, but not particularly special.

After Todd got back, Maggie and Alice had gone over everything Todd had told Maggie, and they had come up with about thirty more questions to ask him tomorrow. It was the most brilliant job either of them could imagine.

'You already knew Ollivander isn't on You-Know-Who's side,' Alice said, distractedly running her hand over her new haircut. Enamored with punk culture, she'd recently cut her hair so that it was short and spiky. Most people at Hogwarts who weren't Frank were completely put off by it, which was part of the reason Alice loved it. 'They gave you your wand. You know they don't believe in any of this pureblood rubbish.'

'Using a wand and making a wand are two different things,' Maggie said, shaking her heard. 'I never even would have let myself dream that I could be a wandsmith until Professor Flitwick suggested it.'

'What was it that Todd said?' Alice asked. ' _You have a better understanding_ –'

 _'Of enchantment theory than anyone else in your year. Or my year. Or anyone's year_ ,' Maggie recited, grinning. Alice cackled at Maggie's ability to repeat it back verbatim, and Maggie couldn't help but burst out laughing as well. 'It's not true, but it was such a nice thing of him to say.'

'It is true,' Alice said, seriously. 'That apprenticeship, it's going to be a lot of work, but you're going to be just as good, if not better than any of the older wizards starting out there.'

'But Merlin's pants. Seven years!' Maggie groaned, putting her head in her hands. 'I'll be a student forever.' She sighed, resigned. 'I guess it's not surprising. Dunno what I was expecting.'

Alice and Frank looked at her sympathetically.

'Hopefully they'll pay you – eventually, right?' Frank said. 'They've got to.'

'I hope so.' Maggie said, glumly watching the flickering candles above their heads. 'I don't know how I'll manage if they don't. I guess I could get a part-time job somewhere in Diagon Alley for… seven years.'

'You could work at Quality Quidditch Supplies,' Alice suggested. 'One of the Harpies players might come in!'

'Maybe. I could work at Flourish and Blotts, too, that would be all right…'

'Oh no, they would sack you in a day,' Alice said, waving that proposal away with her hand. 'You would spend all day hiding in the shelves, reading. You could serve ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, that could be fun.'

'Or I could serve something stronger at the Leaky Cauldron,' she said, winking and striking a seductive pose while accidentally knocking over her goblet of pumpkin juice. 'I reckon I could be a fetching barmaid.'

Alice snorted. 'Oh, that sounds delightful. Flirting with a bunch of gross old warlocks.'

Maggie wrinkled her nose.

'Look.' Alice leaned in earnestly. 'Don't think about the logistics. Not yet. This is your dream. You know it's going to be brilliant.'

'Can you imagine!' Maggie blurted out excitedly.

'Are the three of you _still here_?' said the Head Girl, who had come through the doors without them noticing. 'Dinner ended ages ago, you _know_ you're not supposed to be in here anymore!'

'Lily,' Maggie said, sighing exasperatedly, 'you used to be fun.'

'Oh, she's still fun,' Alice said, smirking. 'She wants the Great Hall empty so she can use it to spend some quality time with someone.'

'I would've thought you'd be sympathetic to that,' Lily said mildly, crossing her arms, 'considering the number of times I've cleared out the Seventh Year girls' dormitory for the two of you.'

Alice gave an innocent shrug. Frank grinned and turned red.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open as the Head Boy rushed through, looking flushed and happy as he hurried to shut them carefully behind him. 'Breaking rules now, are we, Evans? Sneaking around after hours? Not my cup of tea, personally, but I suppose I could make an exception for –'

James Potter stopped, his grin fading as he caught sight of the others. 'Oh.' He blinked. 'Students aren't allowed in the Great Hall this late.'

'No?' Alice said. 'How odd that you're both in here.'

'Well, we've got to clear out delinquents like yourselves, haven't we?' James said sternly.

'Come on,' Frank said good-naturedly, dragging the two girls out. 'Let's leave them to it. Lily's right, she's done the same for us.'

'Longbottom,' James said, looking as if something had suddenly occurred to him. 'We do need to talk sometime soon – you and Alice, and Lily and I. You know what about.'

'Sure,' Frank said, raising his eyebrows. 'But not right now?'

'Er, no, not right now,' James said, creeping toward Lily and looking vaguely around the Great Hall as a smile spread slowly across his face. 'We have some Head Boy and Head Girl business we've got to, er, sort out.'

'Keep your Head Boy business to the Slytherin table, will you?' Alice called as they reached the doors. 'Scourgify doesn't get rid of everything, you know.'

'You would know, Alice,' Lily called back archly as the three of them, snorting with laughter, snuck back out into the halls.

'What was James talking about?' Maggie whispered, puzzled, as they began to ascend the staircase. 'Why would he need to talk to you?'

'Oh, who knows,' Alice said, shrugging, but Maggie noticed her shoot Frank a look out of the corner of her eye.


	4. The Charms Lesson

The Fifth Year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, happy to have their Charms class outside now that the days were beginning to warm, were chattering and goofing off on the grounds and ignoring Professor Flitwick's attempts to get their attention.

A couple Muggle-born Gryffindors were passing off some Monty Python sketches as their own creation and were currently silly-walking around the crowd for their own amusement. Maggie snuck a glance at Robbie Ellerby, who was laughing along with the others. He caught her eye, and winked.

Maggie smiled back and considered making her way over to him, but Flitwick fired off two short, loud bangs from his wand and the class quieted. Finally able to be heard, he cleared his throat.

'The importance of understanding the Cushioning Charm pertains to far more than your upcoming O.W.L.s,' Flitwick squeaked. 'My ability to perform it has saved the lives of six different individuals in four separate circumstances. Considering the times in which we currently live, it is particularly crucial that I ensure that all my students master it. The more witches and wizards who know it, the better. These days, you never know when a person will be cursed off a broom or flung from a bridge.'

Their typically cheery professor was looking at them solemnly. For once, he had even the Gryffindors' full attention.

'Now, raise your wands, and let's see the position for the Cushioning Charm.'

The students arranged their fingers onto their wands in the slightly cramped style that the Cushioning Charm required and raised them to Professor Flitwick. The motion came second-nature to many of the students in the class. The charm was particularly useful for catching bottles of ink that had been knocked off desks.

Flitwick nodded in satisfaction and turned toward the wooden dummy that a Ravenclaw student had helped him bring out onto the grounds for the lesson. ' _Wingardium Leviosa.'_ He levitated the faceless puppet above the students, letting it gently rise higher and higher into the air.

'The most difficult aspect in successfully attempting a Cushioning Charm is accurate aim,' Flitwick said, as the dummy rose several stories high. 'You must follow the falling object with your wand, like so –'

Flitwick flung his arm back, breaking the Levitation Charm. The dummy, which had been hovering eerily above the class, immediately dropped, falling swiftly through the air. Their professor followed the wooden body with his wand as it fell, crying, ' _Molliare!'_ Its descent immediately slowed and became sluggish, as if it had hit an invisible body of water mid-air.

'As with any charm, repetition is the best way to master this, so whether you succeed or fail, move quickly to the back of the queue so that you and everyone in the class will have plenty of chances to attempt the charm,' said Flickwick, ever the pragmatist. 'Mr Goldstein, I will break the Levitating Charm on the count of three, and you will attempt to cushion the fall so that the dummy glides gently to the ground, unharmed. One, two – three!'

David Goldstein, who was standing at the front of the queue that Flitwick had asked them to form, was gritting his teeth in concentration. ' _Molliare!'_

It didn't seem to work. The dummy fell swiftly through the air, far quicker than David had anticipated it seemed, and the body hit the ground with a deafening crack. Several of the students winced – the fall had caused several visible fractures in the wooden dummy.

'I think we're about to find out how many people remember Hollander's Principle,' Robbie murmured in her ear. He had somehow found his way directly behind Maggie in the queue, even though he was several students behind her the last time she had checked.

She turned around, grinning. 'Probably a lot more people in my house than yours.'

Robbie scoffed.

Hollander's Principle, of course, dictated that the farther away an object was, the longer it would take the energy from a wand to reach it. The delay was small, but it would make catching a falling object incredibly difficult.

The two of them watched students struggle in vain while the dummy plummeted to its death time after time. For five years, Robbie and Maggie had entertained each other at the end of countless Charms lessons, having mastered their spells early while their classmates worked to get them down.

'No one's bringing their arm down quickly enough,' Robbie muttered, watching the dummy crash to the ground time after time. 'People are pointing their wands too high by the time they're finished saying the charm.'

Maggie nodded. 'I think it's best to bend your knees while you're saying it. You can match the speed of the drop easier that way.'

Robbie looked at the dummy thoughtfully. He bent his knees slightly, practising wandlessly a couple of times. One of Robbie's Gryffindor friends sniggered. Robbie turned to him, grinning. 'No shame in getting in a few practice drills, mate.'

'There's a little shame,' the friend said.

But it paid off. Maggie and Robbie were the first students to successfully 'catch' the dummy, which slowed its descent mid-air and glided weightlessly to the ground. Professor Flitwick clapped enthusiastically, and a few students joined in.

'Correct!' Flickwick cried. 'Just as I demonstrated, bending the knees makes it a good deal easier to follow the object with your wand, and Miss Gibson and Mr Ellerby have successfully picked up on this. Ten points each to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!'

Several of the students looked a little bewildered. Any bending of Flitwick's knees had been imperceptible, and a few people grumbled a bit.

'Thanks for the tip, Gibson.' Robbie laughed as they walked back toward the end of the queue together. 'Christ, Gryffindor owes so many house points to you.'

'Oh, don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you would've figured it out eventually,' she teased.

Now that two people of average height had demonstrated the charm, students seemed to be catching on and were able to stop the dummy with some success. Robbie cleared his throat.

'Did you read about the Harpies' win yesterday?'

'I did! I watched the photos in the _Prophet_ for an hour!' she said, laughing. 'Robbie – aren't the Harpies' Beaters brilliant? I mean, I know I've not been following Quidditch for that long, but for Beaters to be that calculated, to work with that much precision – it's rare, right?'

'It absolutely is. They factor into nearly every play that the Harpies have, I've never seen that before. And I get such a kick out of the looks on these blokes' faces when they get absolutely walloped by a Bludger sent their way by a female Beater,' he said, and the two of them cackled.

As their laughter died down, Robbie seemed to want to say something, then faltered a bit. 'Going to a Quidditch match... is – is that something you would ever want to do?'

'What do you mean? I go all the time. I even go to Gryffindor matches that aren't against Ravenclaw sometimes. It's fun to watch you play.'

'No, no.' Robbie looked flustered, but pleased. 'I mean a professional Quidditch match. Over the summer?'

'Oh! Absolutely. That would be incredible!'

'Brilliant,' Robbie said, grinning at her. He said nothing else, and turned to watch the students' attempts some more.

Maggie felt completely thrown off. Maybe it had been wishful thinking, but she had been certain in that moment that Robbie Ellerby was going to ask her out.

Her face was flushed, and she felt a bit dazed, turning her attention back to Flitwick's critiques of the students' form and execution.


	5. King's Cross

A/N: A quick explanation for those who might not know — Brits call 'vests' what Americans would call 'undershirts' and call 'braces' what Americans would call 'suspenders'.

* * *

Alice was standing tiptoe on one of the seats of the Hogwarts Express as the students headed home for the summer holiday, pulling a pair of jeans and combat boots out of her trunk.

'We were planning on wandering around Muggle London for about an hour while we wait for you,' Alice said, plopping back into her seat next to Frank. 'After that, we'll head to the Leaky Cauldron, and you can meet us there whenever you're done.'

'Mmm,' Maggie said absentmindedly as she studied one of the pieces of parchment that Todd had shared with her. She never realised that wandlore involved such complex carpentry. It had seemed likely that a wand's core was the most important part, and the wood around it simply served as a container. But she was slowly realising that the wood, and the way it was carved, gave a wand at least half its power alone. Maggie had learnt so much from the small bits and pieces of information she had pried out of Todd, who seemed uneasy with sharing anything that could be construed as a trade secret before she was an apprentice, that she was beginning to fully understand why she couldn't be a wandsmith for nearly a decade.

'There's not going to be a test, is there?' Frank asked incredulously as he and Alice eyed the rolls of parchment and books that Maggie had spread throughout the compartment.

Maggie looked up and stopped biting her nails for a second. 'I just want to come off as qualified,' she said, nervously. 'Todd's been studying this his whole life. He's grown up around wandsmiths. I dunno why I thought I could convince Ollivander's to bring me on when I'm so young.'

She picked up the pile of parchment she had laid on the seat beside her. 'They're going to think I'm so bloody arrogant, asking to work there before I even start my Sixth Year. But I could be at Hogwarts for twenty years, and they'd never teach me anything as advanced as this.'

'So you're doing the right thing, jumping in early,' Alice said, a little wearily. They'd been having this conversation a lot over the past couple of months. 'You'll be fine. You do magic in your spare time that's better than what loads of Seventh Years could ever perform. But we're almost at King's Cross,' Alice said, looking out the window. 'You should probably change soon. Frank, mind stepping out?'

Once Frank left the compartment, Maggie jumped up and pulled out a blouse and a corduroy skirt from her trunk. She quickly shed her school robes and pulled on the Muggle clothes before the two girls found Frank in the corridor, and the three of them squeezed themselves and their trunks into the crowd of students who had filled the hall of the train, which had come to a stop.

They made their way toward Alice's parents, who were waiting for them on the platform. Their smiles faded as they got a closer look at her new hairstyle.

'Good god, Alice, what have you done!' Mrs Harper shrieked as the three of them approached. 'You look like a criminal!'

'Worse – she looks like a boy!' her father said, crestfallen.

Alice sighed as her parents sputtered over her appearance.

'Oh darling,' her mother said, looking miserable as she ran her hands over her daughter's shaved head. 'Let's pick up some Manegro Potion at Diagon Alley before we head home, that will sort out your pretty blonde hair.'

'What maniacs are you getting these ideas from? Certainly not Frank or Maggie,' Mr Harper said, eyeing Alice's two friends suspiciously, as if their clean-cut appearances were somehow disguising Mohican haircuts and slashed leather trousers.

'Certainly not! Maggie dear, you must set your hair every day for it to look this precious,' Mrs Harper said wistfully, fingering Maggie's shoulder-length curls.

'Actually, it just does that naturally,' Maggie said nervously as Mrs Harper continued to coo over her hair. 'And I think Alice's haircut is brilliant. She looks incredibly cool, as always. It suits her, it really does.'

Alice's parents frowned, and Alice shot Maggie a warning look. Frank was craning his neck, looking for his own mum on the platform. Maggie caught a glimpse of her stuffed-vulture hat and tapped Frank on the shoulder, nodding, and he waved her over energetically. Maggie actually heard Alice gulp. Mrs Longbottom might be the only person in the world who intimidated her.

'Frank, dear, welcome back,' Mrs Longbottom said warmly before kissing her son's cheek and embracing him.

'Mum – and Mr and Mrs Harper – we have big news,' Frank said breathlessly, taking Alice's hand.

'Oh!' Maggie said, startled. 'Have you not told them yet?' Alice shook her head, smiling nervously at Maggie.

'Alice and I,' Frank said, simply and happily, 'are getting married.' He raised her hand to show them the ring, and the three parents stared at them, mouths agape. There was a stunned silence. Maggie forgot how to breathe for a second.

'Well, that's... that's... _wonderful_ ,' Mrs Longbottom said with genuine heart, which seemed to break the spell. Soon Mr Harper was enthusiastically shaking Frank's hand and clapping him on the back, and Mrs Harper was tearfully hugging her daughter and talking about dresses.

'And now we'll certainly have to pick up some Manegro Potion, dear,' Mrs Harper said happily, 'we can't have you looking like that on your wedding day.'

'I think Alice can make her own choices about how she styles her hair,' Mrs Longbottom said, giving Alice an appraising look. 'Personally... I like it.'

Alice looked at Maggie and laughed with relief, and Maggie pulled her best friend into a tight hug.

'Let's all Apparate to ours for champagne,' Mr Harper said joyously. 'We have a bottle at home!'

'Oh, actually,' Alice said, looking worriedly at Maggie, 'Maggie has a very important job interview in Diagon Alley in less than an hour, so Frank and I were planning to meet her when she's done.'

'Maggie can join us all as soon as she's done,' said Mrs Harper, who was already fishing in her handbag for a bit of Floo Powder. 'And your brother's welcome as well, Maggie, as always.'

'Simon's working late tonight, so it'll just be me,' Maggie said, thanking Mrs Harper as she handed her the bag.

'Maggie are you sure?' Alice said anxiously.

'Of course! You two deserve to celebrate properly!'

'Well... all right. But we're taking your trunk. Come by as soon as you're done, all right, and tell us how it went.'

Mr Harper groaned as he lifted Maggie's trunk onto their trolley. 'Blimey, Maggie, what have you got in here?'

'Sorry,' Maggie said, grimacing apologetically. 'Loads of books, plus a gramophone... and a typewriter.'

'A what?' the three parents said, looking at Maggie in bewilderment.

'Er, Maggie!' Todd was waving at Maggie a ways down the platform, beckoning for her to join him with his friend Derek Malkin, another Seventh Year Ravenclaw. As she returned the wave with a grin, she hoped it wasn't obvious that she was thoroughly amused by the outfit Todd had cobbled together – a vest and some high-waisted trousers, which were held up by an old-fashioned pair of braces. He looked like a character in _A Streetcar Named Desire_. It didn't make sense; Todd essentially _lived_ in London. Did he really not know how to dress like a Muggle? Maggie supposed that, if you grew up in a wizarding community like Diagon Alley, you might spend all of your life donning robes, unlike Frank and Alice, who grew up in more rural areas.

'I'll see you all soon!' Maggie said. 'Wish me luck!'

The two families waved as Maggie began to make her way toward Todd and Derek, but she suddenly heard her name coming from another direction, and she turned to see Robbie squeezing through the crowd.

'Robbie! Hi! I'm so sorry, but I'm in a bit of a hurry right now,' she said, gesturing sadly to the two Ravenclaw men. 'I've got to be at Ollivander's by four.'

'I know,' he said, grinning down at her. 'I wanted to wish you good luck on your big adventure. Also –'

He fished in his pockets. He was oddly flushed, and he seemed to be out of breath.

'I'd love to take you to a Quidditch match next week,' he said, grinning nervously and pulling out two tickets that read _HOLYHEAD HARPIES vs MONTROSE MAGPIES._ 'My dad's shop supplies the brooms for the Magpies, so we get tickets sometimes. I know you've been wanting to see a professional Quidditch match for years, and I thought we could go together.' He grinned shyly. 'I – I hate the thought of not seeing you all summer.'

Maggie's jaw dropped, and her heart soared. She didn't know what to say. An embarrassingly girlish giggle escaped her lips as she looked up at him. 'I _thought_ you were going to ask me out on a Quidditch date, when you were asking about it! Wait,' she said, suddenly mortified. 'You do mean a date, right?'

Robbie laughed. 'Yes. That's what I was thinking.'

'I'd love to!' she said, giddily putting her arms around him and pulling him in a tight hug. She turned to look over at Todd, who was staring blankly at them. 'I've got to get going, but owl me the details, OK?'

'All right,' said Robbie, who was looking happier than she'd ever seen him.

As she approached Todd and Derek, they motioned for her to go ahead first through the barrier. As Maggie stumbled through the wall, she couldn't help herself – she allowed herself a shriek and a little dance before the boys came through, and a few people at the station looked over, startled. Maggie desperately wished Alice had stayed with her. Maggie'd been reluctant to leave them already, in the midst of a spontaneous engagement party, and now she had her own news she wanted to giddily relate. Despite all her coolness, Alice was never above whispering and giggling, her arm thrown confidingly around Maggie's shoulders, and this moment with Robbie just now definitely called for exactly that.

Maggie was still grinning like an idiot when Todd walked through, his eyes scanning both directions cautiously. He caught her eye, and her grin seemed to throw him off. He looked away, frowning at his feet, until Derek came through the barrier a little too enthusiastically, colliding into Todd and almost knocking him to the ground.

'For fuck's sake, Malkin!' Todd snapped angrily as he righted himself, massaging his arm. 'You've been doing this for seven bloody years, still haven't got the hang of it yet?'

'And I never will!' Derek said, raising his hands happily. 'Good-bye Hogwarts Express, for the last time! Get in!' Maggie smiled hesitantly, unsure how to act as Todd glowered. She worked to compose herself, and look a little bit less like an over-eager little girl.

'Shall we head to the tube?' Derek suggested. 'Have we all got Muggle money?'

Maggie nodded. Derek looked at Todd, who wasn't listening as he continued to massage his arm.

'Ollivander? Need a loan, mate?'

'What?' Todd looked up irritably. 'What are we standing around for? Why aren't we walking to the tube? Have you got Muggle money?'

Todd glared at Maggie, and Derek gave him a bewildered look. He tugged Todd toward the London Underground station, as Maggie tagged along nervously.

The group made their way toward the Piccadilly Line and waited for the train to arrive. It was a weekday afternoon, and the space was fairly empty.

'What was all that commotion with that group you were with earlier?' said Derek, who Maggie noticed was wearing a much more normal outfit of jeans and a T-shirt.

'My friends got engaged recently. They just sprung the news on their parents for the first time there on the platform.'

'Engaged?' Derek looked aghast. 'Those two Gryffindors? But they're only eighteen!'

Maggie shrugged.

Derek shook his head, still looking taken aback. 'This war,' he said. 'It's causing people to make some bloody rash decisions these days.'

The train rumbled forward. Maggie and Todd took a seat while Derek held on to the bar above their heads.

'I'm so nervous,' Maggie confided in Todd. She noticed that he was holding a pair of green robes in his lap.

'Well, you ought to be, don't you?' he said, not looking at her. 'My dad's one of the most skilled wizards in Magical Britain.'

'Right.' She faltered a bit. She had probably had about a dozen conversations with Todd about her potential apprenticeship, some by owl and some in person, and he had always been encouraging and helpful. The stick up Todd's arse had not inserted itself at the best time. Her palms were sweaty just thinking about her interview with Mr Ollivander.

'You said your father's probably going to expect a couple demonstrations from me, right? I've decided on two charms that I think will impress him,' she said, pulling her wand surreptitiously from her sleeve.

'You're not about to do magic on the tube, are you?' said Todd sharply, his silvery eyes darting around.

'N-no. I mean. I was just going to describe what I had in mind.' She wasn't actually going to do any magic, and there wasn't anyone in the carriage with them, anyway.

'Keep that thing hidden till we get to Diagon Alley, will you?' he snapped.

In the midst of her annoyance, it occurred to Maggie suddenly what might be bothering Todd so much.

'That was your last time on the Hogwarts Express, wasn't it?' she gave him a small smile, which he didn't return. 'Are you a bit sad, about leaving it all behind? I'll definitely miss Hogwarts when I have to leave.'

'Derek and I didn't take the train,' Todd said, irritated. 'We Apparated to meet you at the platform. And why would I miss Hogwarts? I was only there three years, because for some reason my dad thought it was necessary for me to earn all the necessary O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s to be a wandsmith, despite the fact that –'

'To answer your question, Maggie,' Derek cut in playfully, 'I, for one, am thrilled to be leaving school. No more essays, exams, no more deadlines? Finally, we can just enjoy magic for what it is, instead of writing about it, hearing lectures on it, analysing it, learning about its bloody history! We can finally _enjoy_ being wizards for once!'

'What work will you be doing now?' Maggie asked.

'I'll be at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, here in Diagon Alley. I've always excelled at potion-brewing, even more so than our prodigy friend here,' Derek said, jerking his head good-naturedly at Todd.

'This is us, isn't it?' Maggie asked. She was right. The three of them rushed out onto Leicester Square Station and followed the 'Way Out' signs. Todd, arms crossed and scowling slightly, didn't look at Maggie as they rode the escalators up, finally exiting out onto Charing Cross Road.

'Ollivander,' Derek said, 'there's a waitress at a Muggle restaurant down the road that I've been chatting up. Do you mind if I... ?'

'Do what you've got to do, Malkin,' Todd said irritably.

'Cheers mate, I'll buy you a pint at the Cauldron tonight. And Maggie,' Derek said kindly, 'good luck. I'm sure you'll blow them away.'

Maggie wasn't thrilled about being left alone with Todd. Derek waved, and Todd turned and started walking. Maggie had to jog to keep up.

'So,' she said breathlessly, 'can I run my ideas by you? I've got a couple of Knuts with me, and I can charm them in a variety of ways. I've long figured out how to make them sprout wings and flutter around a bit, that's easy. I also know how to melt them down and then turn them into working clock hands that tell perfect time. Thing is, that's a good deal harder, and I'm a tiny bit worried I'll mess it up under pressure. Also, once I melt them down, it's harder to pull off my third charm, which is turning them into gold. It doesn't last forever, of course, it's only fake gold, but it _looks_ rather convincing, and of course I would tell your father that's it's fake gold.'

Maggie nearly crashed into Todd. He had stopped abruptly in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He turned toward her, opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Finally, he spoke. 'Do you always think that you have to flirt with people to get what you want? Like an interview? Or Quidditch tickets?'

'Wh-what?' Maggie's feet were glued to the London pavement. Todd turned and walked into the pub, and she was unsure whether she wanted to follow him inside at all.

Finally, she forced herself to walk through the doors as well. 'Excuse me?' she tried to confront him, blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the pub, but he wouldn't look at her.

'I thought that – I thought –' he seemed angry and flustered at the same time. 'Forget it. You're here. You've got the interview. You could've gone about it without – without – smiling at me, talking to me all the time. Touching my arm. But whatever. You thought you had to do it this way.'

Maggie's mind was reeling while she stared at him, mouth open.

'Don't play dumb.' Todd seemed to be embarrassed, but was standing his ground. 'Finding reasons to come talk to me, to send me owls all the time. It was all a scheme to get something from me.'

So this was why she had been granted an interview. Todd hadn't thought she was qualified for this job at all. He had just wanted to get into her knickers. Seeing her with Robbie must've brought Todd's whole delusional wet dream crashing down. Oh god. All of her goals, all her plans. How stupid could she have been, thinking that Ollivander's would ever let a mudblood into such a venerated institution?

Todd was pausing inside the pub. Why weren't they headed toward the courtyard? Her interview wasn't going to happen, was it, she realised. Devastation was welling up inside her, and she felt she might be sick.

'Aren't you going to change?' Todd looked at her.

'C-change?'

'Into robes? Where are your robes?'

In her frenzy, Maggie hadn't noticed that Todd had already pulled his green robes over his head. Ah. That explained the vest.

'I – I haven't got any.'

'What? You were just planning on wearing that for the interview? Muggle clothes?' Todd raised his eyebrows, looking down at her outfit.

'I – I dunno. I dunno what I was planning.'

Todd shrugged, a little bewildered. 'Suit yourself.' He led her out to the courtyard, and tapped the brick wall three times with his wand. The wall opened up, and Todd strode through.

He glared back at Maggie on the other side. 'Well? Come on, then.'


	6. Professor Flitwick

The Hogwarts fall term had been back in session for several days now, and Maggie had finally found a spare moment to bring some of Alice's old Potions supplies down to Flitwick's office. She shifted the large cauldron to her hip as she knocked on the young professor's door.

'Ah, Maggie, welcome back,' he squeaked, rushing to invite her in, and she came through, placing the cauldron on the ground.

She dusted off her hands and placed them on her hips, surveying the contents of the cauldron. 'Right. So, in addition to Alice's old Pewter cauldron, she gave me her brass scales and glass phials to donate as well. She said that whoever gets the items is welcome to keep them. Now that she and Frank are married, the two of them just use Frank's supplies. And Alice was always rubbish at Potions anyway, she's glad to be rid of it.'

'Did the two of them marry already?' Flitwick said, surprised.

'Yeah,' Maggie said, smiling. 'It does seem fast, doesn't it? Alice and Frank have been rushing into things like it's the end of the world lately.'

'Well, thank you for all this, Maggie, this is hugely helpful. Slughorn wasn't entirely sure how he was going to manage his First Year Potions classes, what with all the Muggle-born First Years not having access to potions supplies. At least Slug & Jiggers hasn't put up one of those bloody signs. They ought to start selling cauldrons and scales, take advantage of the situation. But –' Flitwick sighed '– I imagine they're concerned that might attract some unwanted Death Eater attention. I'm sure You-Know-Who is quite pleased to have begun to cut off Muggle-borns from some of the wizarding commerce in London now.'

Flitwick was scowling at the cauldron on the floor, lost in thought. He looked up at her sadly, his eyes nearly black, just like his hair. 'Are _you_ in need of any Potions supplies, Maggie? Unfortunately, I assume you're no longer allowed in Potage's Cauldron Shop anymore either?'

She shook her head. 'I have everything I need,' she said quietly.

Flitwick sighed again. 'I hope you'll be safe when you start working in that borough. But I'm sure the Ollivander's crew will take the necessary precautions to protect you.'

Maggie chewed the inside of her mouth. As much as she adored Professor Flitwick, she'd been avoiding him since the start of term for exactly this reason. He was going to ask her about Ollivander's, how the interview went.

Flitwick made his way to a table in his office and beckoned for Maggie to sit down, which she did. As he sat down on a very small chair, the chair legs began to stretch and lengthen, and suddenly he was eye-level with Maggie, his hands folded on the table.

'So,' he said, smiling and leaning forward, 'how did it go? When do you start?'

Maggie gave a shaky sigh, and Flitwick looked at her with concern and surprise from behind his round spectacles.

'Everything went just slightly wrong,' she said miserably.

As soon as she and Todd had arrived at Ollivander's, Todd had gone upstairs almost instantly, and Mr Ollivander and a tall, elegant Asian witch he had introduced as Miss Kim brought Maggie into a large-ish, sunlit back room to speak with her and see what she could do.

Maggie, who had performed flawlessly on the practical aspects of her O.W.L.s, initially seized up in front of the two elder sorcerers. She fumbled while attempting to produce the two Knuts from her handbag, and a large amount of Muggle pence had fallen onto the floor. She'd waved her wand a little too forcefully to pick up the change, and several coins zoomed at Mr Ollivander and Miss Kim, who had to duck to keep from being whacked in the face.

Maggie easily charmed a pair of wings on each of the Knuts, but they fluttered a bit like wounded moths. Their movements were not fluid, and when Maggie tried to get them to fly in a synchronised motion, they bumped into each other a couple of times before she was finally able to get them to loop around each other in a double helix.

When she melted them down, she had forgotten to conjure a small stone plate on the desk first, and the hot bronze melted through the table like tissue paper. Mr Ollivander and Miss Kim had to help her clean up the rather cumbersome mess before she could continue. Maggie could usually turn any metal into a very convincing temporary fake gold, but when she attempted to turn the Knuts gold, they took on the sheen of bronze mixed with a dull gold, and they weren't anywhere near the right shape. At one point, Mr Ollivander looked down with a furrowed brow at a piece of parchment, and Maggie realised with a jolt that he had her O.W.L. results (O's in all subjects except a couple E's in Ancient Runes and Astronomy).

Finally, when she melted down the fake gold to form the hour, minute and second hand of a clock, the time was about seven minutes off, which made the charm considerably less dramatic than when the time was perfect.

Still, Mr Ollivander and Miss Kim had seemed interested enough in her demonstrations, and Maggie hoped she made a good impression when they engaged her in a rather invigorating conversation about magic.

But there'd been no discussion about a possible apprenticeship for Maggie. When she had raised the question herself, Mr Ollivander had responded with a simple 'perhaps,' and said they wouldn't make that decision until she officially applied when she was seventeen. This had unnerved Maggie. Todd had told her that if his father was impressed, they very likely would make plans for her future.

'Well, that's not so bad,' Flitwick said consolingly, conjuring a cup of hot cocoa with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top for Maggie. She felt tears spring to her eyes. She had kept it together throughout the whole story, but the cocoa might cause her to lose it. Flitwick had not made Maggie a cup of cocoa since he sought to comfort her after an incident several summers ago in which he had to Confund a couple of Muggle NSPCC personnel who, suspicious that Maggie was not attending school under the guardianship of her brother, had insisted on an interview with Simon at his and Maggie's flat.

'For all you know, you _did_ impress them, and you'll be working there in less than a year. Or, worst case scenario, you won't get to work at Ollivander's, and you'll have to take one of the two dozen job offers you'll inevitably be offered after graduation instead,' Flitwick said, smiling kindly.

Maggie gave him a watery smile and gratefully took the handkerchief that he offered.

'I just don't think that Ollivander's hires Muggle-borns,' she said, dabbing her eyes. 'I'll just have to find an industry that doesn't care about that sort of thing.'

Flitwick frowned. 'Now, that's not true at all. I went to school with a boy named John Watts. He's Muggle-born, and I know for a fact that he completed his apprenticeship, and he's working at Ollivander's now. Why would you think that?'

Maggie blew her nose. 'I think that... that... the only reason that Todd Ollivander was open to the idea was because, well…' she hesitated, embarrassed. 'Well, I think I might've accidentally given him the wrong idea. I think... I think he thought that... I fancied him. As soon as I started dating Robbie Ellerby, Todd acted very coldly toward me. I think he regretted setting up the interview in the first place. He told me… he asked me if I always flirted with people to get what I want.'

Maggie looked down at her cocoa, too distressed and embarrassed to look at Flitwick. Her professor was silent for a moment, then he spoke. He seemed annoyed.

'I'm disappointed in Todd,' he said, 'and I think you're giving him too much credit to assume that the way he treated you has anything to do with any sort of policy at Ollivander's. What a shame,' he said, shaking his head. 'Todd is talented, I thought he might be a good mentor to you. I didn't realise he was a childish git.'

Maggie looked up, startled to hear Flitwick say that.

'Just because Garrick Ollivander can give his son all the instruction he needs,' he said, 'doesn't mean he should've kept him from people his own age for so long. You can't learn everything from a book or a professor.'

Maggie shrugged miserably. 'It doesn't matter. Fact is, everything Todd said messed with my head so much that I messed up my interview. There's not much that can be done now.'

'Codswallop,' Flitwick said, determined. 'When do you come of age? November? You're not going to wait till summer to do your formal interview. You're going back to Ollivander's this Christmas holiday. If Garrick Ollivander is going to reject you, it should at least be after he's been given a proper demonstration of what Maggie Gibson can do.'


	7. The Unicorn Hunt

The wind had subsided a bit as the three wizards and a witch hovered above Merlin's Forest on broomsticks, their feet brushing the tops of the trees. It was a cloudy mid-December day in Wales and presumably very cold, but each of them had wrapped him or herself in a pleasant Warming Charm so they could comfortably watch and wait for hours.

Still, Todd's shoulders and back were beginning to ache from peering through the trees for a flash of silver. He rolled his head on his shoulders and stretched. He looked at the others, who looked a bit weary as well.

'Just two more years,' grumbled Will, who seemed to be the least happy to be there. 'Two more years, and I'll be a full wandsmith, and I'll be free to simply _make_ wands. Of all the stupid tasks expected of an apprentice, going on these hunts is the biggest waste of time of all.'

'Oh, go work your wood, Kershner, it's clearly the only thing you're good at,' muttered Nate.

'I'm just as good at the extremely fine art of sitting on my arse, waiting for a unicorn to grace us with its presence as you are. Aren't you supposed to be a Beast- _Hunter_? I seem to be missing the undoubtedly fascinating hunting techniques you've been using for the past several hours.'

'I swear to God, you pompous little twat, I will knock you off your broom –'

'Will you two shut up?' Sana hissed. Her green apprentice robes rippled in the wind. 'If we scare off a unicorn because of your bickering and all this waiting will have been for naught, I will knock you _all_ off your brooms, and I sure as hell won't be performing any Cushioning Charms after I do it.'

The group fell silent. Todd looked over at Miss Kim and Kurt Brimer – the head Beast-Hunter – off in the distance, who were gliding slowly over the trees about a half mile away.

'I'd be happy to be rid of you myself,' Nate grumbled quietly at Will. 'We could use more women on a unicorn hunt anyway. Do you think that Maggie girl will be re-applying this summer?'

Todd gave an indifferent shrug. 'Dunno.'

'Y'know, I vaguely remember Maggie Gibson,' Will said thoughtfully. 'When she was a First Year, or maybe she was Second Year, she had about a million questions for me when I was Head Boy.' Nate gave a tremendous eye roll behind Will's back. He did seem to reminisce about being Head Boy an awful lot. 'They were good questions too. She really sought to understand the mechanics of magic, instead of blindly accepting that when you do this –' he mimed the flicking of a wand '– and say something just the right way, magic happens. She even came up with a simple spell of her own – in her Second Year, I think! Something to do with creating a sort of simple mirror in the air. She was a bright girl. I was really surprised to hear that she blew the interview, regardless of the –' he smirked at Todd '– reason she got it in the first place.'

Todd rolled his eyes. He regretted telling them that he had been taken in by Maggie. The apprentices, as well as several of the crew members, were thoroughly amused by this.

'Remind us, how did she seduce you exactly, Ollivander?' asked Sana, sniggering. 'Did she slip you a love potion, or did she simply need to flash an ankle to have you wrapped around her finger?'

 _'Oooh Todd,_ _I just love this wand of yours_ ,' Will said breathily. ' _Thirteen inches – that's above average isn't it? – and – oh my –_ particularly _rigid_.' Even Nate lost it, and the three of them bobbed up and down on their broomsticks as they laughed gleefully at a thoroughly put-out Todd.

'Piss off,' Todd snapped, irritated. 'She just… led me on. She'd come up to me, find reasons to ask me questions all the time. She laughed at my jokes. She touched my arm a couple of times.'

'Wow,' Sana deadpanned. 'What a slag.'

Todd grumpily returned his attention to the trees as the others continued to snicker a bit.

'No surprise at all that our homeschooled friend here isn't going to be especially savvy when it comes to women,' Nate said.

'You're one to talk about understanding women, Nate,' Sana said, smiling at her husband. 'I had to drop a good deal of hints before you got the message.'

Nate scoffed defensively. 'You're damned if you do, damned if you don't. Men are arseholes if we incorrectly assume a woman fancies us, or we're idiots for not noticing in the first place.'

Todd wished that a bloody unicorn would show up already. He'd been kicking himself for months. He knew now he was completely mental to have thought that someone like Maggie Gibson would ever fancy him, and the last thing he needed was for it to be a favourite topic of discussion at Ollivander's.

'I think what you're all forgetting,' Sana said, 'is how excited we all were to start our apprenticeships. And Todd, you may not understand this at all – realising that someday you'll be able to work at one of the most magical institutions in the world. It's... well, it's thrilling. It's like getting your Hogwarts letter all over again. I hate to say it, but any, er, _enthusiasm_ you detected from Maggie _was_ probably just about the job.'

But Todd wasn't listening. He removed his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes, which he hoped weren't playing tricks on him. He thought he had seen something shining through the branches, but it was gone now. He scanned the forest desperately for a sign of a unicorn.

'Did you see that?' Todd asked, turning toward the others. 'It was just there!'

Suddenly, he saw a bright silver flank take off and gallop westward.

'There!' he said quickly. 'It's there! Let's go, let's go, let's go!'

The others saw it too, and the four of them rushed swiftly across the treetops to follow the unicorn below. Nate shot red sparks into the air to signal to Miss Kim and Kurt, who began to make their way toward them.

The silvery beast was galloping fast, manoeuvring effortlessly through the brush and the branches. Todd had been on enough unicorn hunts to recognise from the unicorn's behaviour what was going on. It knew they were there; it was leading them on a chase. Nate grinned back at the group, ecstatic.

They sailed over the forest toward the nearly concealed sun, squinting down through the blur of green for the beast and praying that they wouldn't lose it.

'There's a clearing up ahead!' Nate shouted back at them. 'I'm going to get there before it does and de-broom! Stay in the sky!'

The others signaled to him that they understood, and Nate sped ahead before dropping swiftly through a break in the trees. Miss Kim and Kurt caught up with the remaining three, flying toward the clearing until they found Nate. He had already conjured his Patronus – a unicorn stallion – and it was standing calmly beside him as he waited. The group formed a circle in the air above him.

From Todd's vantage point, he could see that the unicorn was loitering at the edge of the trees, pawing at the ground. Nate got down on one knee and lowered his eyes, letting his Patronus approach the mare.

The mare seemed to know what the Patronus was. At least, she knew it wasn't a real unicorn. But she seemed to trust it, and as it approached her she moved forward as well. When she was close enough, she sniffed its mane. The Patronus and the unicorn brought their muzzles close to one another, and the witches and wizards watched from up above in the stillness. A strong gust of wind blew through, and Todd and the others leaned hard on their brooms to stay in place. Nate was still crouched down on the ground, stealing occasional glances, trying to gauge the mare's temperament and what she was going to do next.

Suddenly, the mare and the Patronus looked up simultaneously and began to trot together. Nate remained still while the others stirred above, and when the mare and the stallion took off at a full gallop, the group on broomsticks took off after them. Todd let his body fall down toward the trees to give his broomstick the momentum he wanted. Everything was going according to plan, and Todd wanted to whoop as they bolted through the sky, but he didn't want to spook the mare. Even Will seemed to be enjoying the hunt at this point.

Kurt was leading the pack, and they formed a V behind him, having a much easier time now keeping tabs on the shining silver Patronus down below. Before long, Nate caught up with them on his broomstick, and took his place behind Kurt.

They flew for several minutes before, finally, Kurt held out a closed fist and they all slowed to a stop. Todd peered below and saw what was unmistakably a small unicorn herd. Unfortunately, this area was not as clear, and the group would have to decide whether to carefully fly down or simply climb down the trees with their broomsticks in their hands.

Unless you were Kurt and Nate, who didn't hesitate before plummeting headfirst into the brambles.

Will rolled his eyes. 'Gryffindors,' he muttered. The four of them who remained, Miss Kim included, carefully descended through the trees and landed softly on the ground to find Nate and Kurt, standing close to Nate's Patronus and feeding carrots to the unicorns.

There were seven there – two golden foals, two stallions and three mares. Will and Todd approached the foals carefully, producing carrots from their pockets as well, and Miss Kim and Sana made their way toward the adults.

Todd petted a foal softly, collecting its mane hair in his hand. He ran his wand along the hairs, which fell into a burlap sack that Will was holding out for him. Todd grinned at the foal, which was now sporting a sort of Mohican as it continued to munch happily on a carrot. The two men moved toward the other foal with a separate bag, then settled several paces away from the herd to observe them. Soon, Miss Kim settled next to them as well.

'Those two have got to be brothers, right?' Todd said quietly to her. He and Will had each picked a foal to take notes on, and he was jotting down a few of his observations on a piece of parchment. 'That one is barely larger than the other, and they're both about the same shade of gold. The odds of the mares being pregnant at the same time seems unlikely, no?'

'They are definitely brothers,' she said. She pointed a knotted hand at the foals. 'See how they are content to stay with each other, rather than seek the safety of their mother? They feel safe in each other's company, even while we are here.'

Struck by this insight, Todd watched the foals and realised she was right. He and Will scribbled a few notes as Sana, Nate and Kurt took a seat beside them.

'The smallest mare is rather friendly and energetic,' Nate said to Sana. 'I'm not used to that kind of unicorn demeanor around men, be sure to make a note of that.'

'I'm not your secretary,' she said, smiling without looking up from her own piece of parchment. 'I've already started making observations about the larger mare, you can take your own notes about the small one.'

Nate grumbled as he produced a quill and parchment from his bag. The group wrote and watched from afar in silence as the unicorns grazed and interacted with one another. Miss Kim was a good sport for coming on these unicorn hunts for the sake of adding a witch to the group. She was a wandsmith, not a Beast-Hunter, and it wasn't expected of her. She had bewitched her quill to jot down notes on a piece of parchment that was floating in the air. Todd was surprised to see that the words were in her handwriting, and he realised that the quill was transcribing her thoughts. If it were him, he'd just have the quill make the observations for him.

Todd was surprised to see that Kurt, who he'd always considered a bit of a meathead, had also filled up a good deal of parchment with small, cramped writing. Todd looked down at his five sentences and peered at Will's parchment, which was also fairly sparse. Will looked over at Kurt's copious notes as well and gave Todd a bewildered shrug. Todd gazed at the other unicorns, searching for more things to notice.

They were lovely creatures – a faint light seemed to be emanating from them. Todd could sense the intense magic almost vibrating inside each creature. But it was their eyes, which looked down through you and seemed to search you and see what goodness there was inside you, that gave them their breathtaking otherworldliness.

Todd's mum's wand had a unicorn core. His dad kept it in a box on his dresser, and Todd would sometimes sneak into his dad's bedroom when he wasn't home and examine her wand, as a way to feel close to her.

She'd died when he was eight, and he remembered her as a child would – tucking him in, reading to him. The older Todd got, the more he longed to have known her better – as a person, not just as his mum. He knew that her pear wood wand, pleasantly springy, served as a not-so-small window into who she had been, and Todd felt that, if he studied it long enough, if he learned its quirks and its strengths and its preferences, it was a way of saying hello. Her wand also seemed to take to him – he could perform nearly all charms and transfiguration with surprising ease, considering that it wasn't his wand – which made him smile and sniffle a bit.

Once or twice – often around the date of her death – Todd had opened the box to find it empty, so he suspected that his dad sometimes carried it with him.

Todd was startled from his reverie as one of the stallions suddenly turned toward the brush, and with a leap, he began to lead the herd east. Nate nullified his Patronus. The group stood up and began gathering their things.

'That should last us a good while,' Kurt said gruffly, stuffing his quill and parchment into his bag and picking up his broom. 'I think we're done here, everyone.'

'Pints at the Leaky Cauldron, then, Brimer?' Nate said energetically. 'What say you? Celebrate another successful hunt?'

'I dunno mate, I'm knackered.'

'Oh, come on! First round on me. We've got to celebrate!'

'Yeah Kurt, you're not that old yet,' Sana said, grinning, as Nate put his arm around her. 'For old time's sake, come join us.'

Kurt sighed, shrugging his broad shoulders. 'Fine. One round.' He turned on the spot, and disappeared with a _pop!_

'Well,' Nate said, his brow furrowed. 'I mean, he's got to cover _the next round_ if I'm getting the first.'

'Yeah, we'll see how that goes.' Sana turned to Todd, Will and Miss Kim. 'You are all invited as well, of course, sorry that Nate didn't make that clear.' Nate opened his mouth as if to protest, but Sana shot him a look and he nodded reluctantly.

'Certainly, since you're getting the first round,' Will said smugly. Todd, never one to turn down a drink, tentatively agreed. Hopefully they wouldn't spend the whole night taking the piss out of him.

'Thank you for the kind offer,' Miss Kim said. 'But I've been looking forward to a peaceful flight back, so I'm afraid I won't be arriving in Diagon Alley for a couple of hours.'

Todd was stunned. 'You're going to _fly_ back, Miss Kim?' he asked.

'On a broom?' asked Sana.

'Yes,' she said simply. 'This countryside is incredibly beautiful. I enjoy getting a chance to appreciate it, after a hunt.'

Todd looked dubiously at Sana, who shrugged. 'Well, we won't deny you that,' Sana said. 'If you sense yourself getting tired, though, just be sure to land and Apparate, all right?'

'Of course.' Miss Kim smiled. Todd was vaguely aware that she had Apparated after a Death Eater had nearly cursed the life out of her entirely, and he was rather sure that she could handle herself.

Nate gave Miss Kim a small salute and turned on the spot. Sana and Todd followed his lead and Apparated to Diagon Alley, where wizards and witches were beginning to close up their carts and shops. The flames in the street lamps were burning brightly as dusk was descending on the town.

The five of them walked in the direction of Ollivander's, their brooms slung over their shoulders.

'Now, Dosbon,' Kurt said, talking to Nate, 'remember – when we get back to the workshop, don't save any more than three unicorn hairs from each horse in each phial. The rest go in the bag to sell to the apothecaries.'

Nate sighed. 'You know, I reckon Watts is right about this waste of resources thing.'

Todd shook his head. 'That's a different issue than what Watts talks about. He'd never want to use more of the same core items. He just wants to make sure we're not wasting wand wood. Priori Incantatem would be rampant if we used all the unicorn hairs that we –'

'I'm sure this is hard for you to believe, Ollivander,' Nate said testily, 'but I know more about Priori Incantatem than you do. There's no need to lecture me, I began studying it while you were still playing with toy trains in your bedroom. I'm just saying that there might be a better way to go about it. If Watts is concerned about the scarcity of wand wood, then we ought to _really_ be concerned about the scarcity of phoenix feathers and unicorn hairs and dragon heartstrings.'

'Hopefully we can drop all this off without alerting your old man, Todd,' Kurt muttered. 'He roped me in for an hour last time I came back from a hunt. He wanted to know the Ridgeback's bloody diet. I said, "Well, I can tell you that he seemed to have a taste for my blackened broomstick, that's for bloody well sure".'

'Todd, distract your dad for us while we sort the haul, will you?' Sana said, nudging Todd to the front of the group. 'Answer all the questions he's got, and if we store everything away and he still wants to know the state of the unicorns' hooves or something like that, we'll have a pint waiting for you at the pub.'

Todd sort of doubted that someone wouldn't end up drinking that pint before he got there. He sighed and opened the front door to Ollivander's. But he stood frozen in the doorway as the others tried to push past him, eager to get upstairs.

Maggie Gibson had turned around when he opened the door, and they were suddenly face-to-face in the last place he had seen her six months ago. A gust of wind blew into the shop, gently picking up her hair and her cloak. She was clad in Hogwarts robes and an air of defiance, and the warming charm he'd wrapped himself in felt suddenly oppressive. He rolled up his sleeves self-consciously before Sana's broom knocked him through the doorframe as she squeezed by.

'Todd, what are you doing? If your dad corners Nate while we're in the workshop, he's going to kill you! Come on!'

Not knowing what to do or what to say, he followed the others upstairs without saying a word.


	8. A Second Chance

Maggie felt her face growing hot. Seeing Todd walk through the front door of Ollivander's brought back all the feelings of insecurity she'd felt the last time she was here, but she knew that he lived here and she had known there was a good chance they were going to run into each other. She turned back around without saying anything as he walked by silently, waiting for Mr Ollivander to return.

She had insisted that she was ready to do her formal interview, and the elder Mr Ollivander had reluctantly gone to prepare the back room. His scepticism was also something she had prepared herself for as well. She could do this. She was qualified. They would realise that soon enough.

Maggie stood in the shop, alone once again, forcing herself to stand with the self-assurance and calm of a much more confident witch. She pretended she was Professor McGonagall applying for a position at Ollivander's, rather than a nervous Muggle-born, undoubtedly less experienced than the group of people who had walked through, whoever they were.

Mr Ollivander appeared suddenly from the back of the shop with a slightly frightening-looking warlock by his side. Nearly half his face seemed to have suffered second-degree burns, and it didn't seem like he'd had any interest in combing his wispy gray hair for years. He was smoking a pipe and surveying Maggie carefully.

'Jack Coakley, one of my wandsmiths here, is available to chat with you. He'll be conducting your interview today.'

Mr Coakley removed the pipe from his mouth and looked down at Maggie. 'When did you come of age, hen?'

'Last month, sir.'

He raised his eyebrows at Mr Ollivander, who gave a small shrug. 'Last month? What makes you so eager tae get to Ollivander's as soon as you can?'

Maggie forced herself to meet Mr Coakley's gaze and talk to him as a peer would. 'I was nervous the last time I was here. I didn't give you all an accurate demonstration of what I know and what I can do, and I'd like a second chance.'

The two elderly men looked at her for a moment. Mr Coakley took a couple thoughtful puffs from his pipe before saying, 'Well, that's an intriguing enough proposition for me tae indulge.' He gestured toward the back. 'Come on then. Follow me.'

He strode to the back and opened the door for her, and she walked through, trying not to think about the fact that Mr Ollivander had likely picked out the wizard he was most willing to spare at the moment. She walked down the hall toward the room she remembered well.

She stepped into the sunlit room. The hardwood floor was nearly bare, but for a couple simple tables and chairs. Coakley shut the door behind her, and stood to face her.

'Now, I could ask you tae tell me who you are, where you're from, what your passions are. About your life at Hogwarts and where you see yersel' in five years. But none of that really matters, does it?' he said sternly. 'What matters is that I see what your relationship with magic is - what you can produce, and what you understand.'

'I agree completely,' Maggie said calmly.

'Well then. Let's see what you've got.'

Flitwick and Maggie had agreed: This was an opportunity to put on a show, and they were rather sure that Maggie's understanding of light-fiddling charms would do the trick.

Maggie placed the base of her wand in her palm while her fingers twirled it in her hand. ' _Refringere lumen_ ,' she whispered. She brought her wand slowly down, and the air in front of her refracted in weird ways. Mr Coakley's face cut in front of her in different sections, his head disconnected from his body like a stage magician's trick, and Maggie knew that he saw her as if through a carnival mirror as well. She was manipulating the way that light was being reflected in this room. She continued to fiddle with the air in front of her, creating a sort of mirror, and she tilted it so that it reflected the wall in the room and her torso seemed to disappear. Mr Coakley made an approving noise while he watched her floating head. She moved her wand quickly, and with a loud crack the mirror expanded and turned toward Mr. Coakely so that he was confronted with himself.

'Enough Muggle magic,' he shouted from behind the mirror, but she could tell that he was grinning. 'Let's see some real witchcraft from you.'

Happy to oblige, Maggie began to recite the incantation she had chosen specifically for this room, the very one she had made a fool of herself in. Sunlight was spilling in from several windows – quite a departure from Ollivander's dusty, dimly lit shop. She would have to cast the spell over each one. She pointed her wand at the first window, and although no curtain appeared over it, the room darkened considerably. As she cast the spell over each window, it grew darker and darker, until she and Mr Coakley were plunged into complete darkness.

Still, the sunny streets of Diagon Alley were still perfectly visible through the windows. As they stood in the darkness, a troubadour strummed a Christmas tune across the street.

'Oh now, you'll have to teach me this spell,' Mr Coakley said. In the dim light from his pipe, Maggie could tell he was grinning.

' _Caeruleus incendio.'_

She swept her wand down in a practised motion, and a ring of bluebell flames burst from it and curled around the room, illuminating herself and Mr Coakley in a dim glow.

'How's that for witchcraft, then?' she asked, a little out of breath. The flames crackled around the two of them as Mr Coakley quietly surveyed her. Suddenly, he strode toward the door, and for a moment Maggie thought he was about to show her out.

But, instead, he said, 'Stay here.' He looked back at her before closing the door behind him. Somehow, in the firelight, he looked less strange. The blue light had washed out all the colour in his face, and his burn was far less noticeable. He gave her a supportive look, and Maggie felt a wave of reassurance surge through her veins. 'Donnae move.'

* * *

Sunlight was streaming into the back room again, Maggie's charms long extinguished. Mr Ollivander was standing before her, frowning, as Mr Coakley hung back, nearly bouncing with excitement.

'I still have reservations, Miss Gibson,' Mr Ollivander said. He searched her with the silvery eyes that he and Todd shared, and for a fleeting moment Todd's face flooded her memory and, 'Do you always think you have to flirt with people to get what you want?' rang in her ears. She pushed the thought of her mind so forcefully that a look of fury must have flashed across her face, because Mr Ollivander held up a hand and explained himself. 'There was a clear goal for each of those spells you performed last summer. And while the results were impressive, you must understand that missteps concern me. Because a wandsmith must be perfectly in tune with the magic he performs. He must be able to sense it, to let it guide him so that - '

He stopped. Maggie had turned her handbag upside down to dump out not only all her Knuts, Sickles and Galleons, but also all the Muggle change she had as well. She was working quickly to charm wings on all of them, and they were slowly rising into the air, one by one. The coins fluttered around the room, and Maggie worked to arrange them in careful rows and columns in a circle around her and the two men. She had made sure to bring all the spare change she had with her to Ollivander's. She walked around, muttering spells to each coin and nudging columns with a hand here, a hip there. Mr Ollivander and Mr Coakley were watching her closely. Satisfied, she walked back to the centre of the circle and, without warning, cracked her wand like a heavy whip.

The coins began to spin in the air, twisting and looping around each other. She cast another charm on the currency, and the coins began to zoom toward the three of them, then back, then forth again, each column's movement one beat ahead of the next, so that she, Mr Ollivander and Mr Coakley seemed to be caught in ocean waves of glinting gold, silver and bronze. Even Mr Ollivander regarded the display with a look of mild astonishment.

'You can walk with them too,' Maggie said, taking a few steps forward. The rows and columns adjusted their formations as she moved, continuing to twirl and glide through the air undisturbed. Mr Ollivander, who must have remembered that he had nearly been struck in the face with Muggle pence the last time he saw Maggie, moved forward gingerly, pleased to see that the coins moved with him as well.

'If you recall, this was not the only charm - '

'I recall,' she said, transfiguring a large stone slab underneath their feet with a tremendous _crack_. She raised her wand again, this time pointing it at the coins in the air, and they rained onto the slab, the metal _ping_ -ing onto the slab in a deafening torrent that eventually ended.

The tip of her wand grew bright hot, and she skimmed it over each coin, which melted onto the slab until they were all surrounded by a circle of melted metal. Maggie hopped off and signaled for the men to do the same. She began to transfigure the substance, holding her robes in a bunch above her ankles as she bent down and walked slowly around the slab. The substance, which was rapidly transforming into a bright, shimmering gold, began to melt toward the centre. When she was finished, an enormous, intact Galleon coin came together before them all.

'This is fake gold, yes?' Mr Ollivander asked, taking out a pair of spectacles, though he seemed unsure himself.

'Yes, of course,' Maggie said, still concentrating on her presentation. 'And it turns back in about a minute.' She pointed her wand at it, firmly and clearly uttering the charm ' _Forma Tempus!'_ With a crack, the huge coin became a huge gold clock with a moving second hand. Mr Ollivander produced a pocket watch and watched the clock closely.

Twenty-six minutes past three in the afternoon and eleven seconds, exactly. Twelve seconds. Thirteen seconds. Fourteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. It was all Maggie could do to keep tears of joy from springing to her eyes. It was perfect.

Mr Ollivander closed the pocket watch with a snap. 'Miss Gibson.' He extended his hand. 'I would like to offer you a position as my apprentice.'

'No' so fast, you poaching bastard!' Mr Coakley cut in sharply. 'I'm the one who gave her another chance! If no' for me, we'd no' have watched the display we just saw, and Miss Maggie Gibson would be walking glumly out the door the noo!'

Shocked to hear Mr Ollivander called a 'poaching bastard', Maggie looked back and forth between the two men, though Mr Ollivander seemed unperturbed. He shrugged and seemed to concede this point.

'Mr Coakley is correct. You will undoubtedly receive just as exemplary an education under him, and my son's apprenticeship should be my current focus, after all. Let us plan to have you start this upcoming summer, under Coakley.'

Beaming brighter than the enormous golden clock, Maggie took Coakley's outstretched hand and offer. She nullified the charm, and thankfully all her savings returned to its previous shape in the form of wizard and Muggle currency, which she placed back into her bag. As three of them exited the room, they saw several people in robes scuttling down the hall toward the shop front.

Alarmed, Maggie looked back at Mr Coakley and Mr Ollivander, who both seemed completely unvexed by the fact that several people had very clearly been spying on them, as they led her out to the front.

When they entered the front of the wand shop, the four people who all looked slightly older than Maggie who she had encountered at Ollivander's earlier were standing around the wand shop, each looking unconvincingly fascinated by various things in the room. Todd was pretending to be searching for something on the wand shelves. A young man with a trim moustache was leaning up against the wall, leafing through an _Evening Prophet_. A girl with a pixie cut who might be Indian was pouring over an open ledger book on the counter while a young sandy-haired man who was sporting a good deal of scruff on his face peered over her shoulder.

'Decided no' to go to the pub, eh?' Mr Coakley said, smirking.

The girl looked up and feigned surprise. 'Oh, hello Coakley. Done, are you?'

'Indeed we are. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me tae introduce my newest apprentice: Maggie Gibson.'

'We're not surprised,' the sandy-haired man said, smiling encouragingly at Maggie. 'You had us at that spell that took out all the light in the room.' The girl elbowed him. 'Ow! C'mon, they knew we were watching! Coakley didn't make the wall transparent for nothing!'

'No, but _she_ didn't know we were watching, Nate.'

'Oh. Well, yeah, that's true.'

The witch turned to Maggie and grinned. 'Really brilliant magic. Well done, Maggie.'

'That was advanced stuff. Very impressive,' said the wizard leaning against the wall, abandoning his newspaper. Ah, of course. That was Will Kerschner, a former Ravenclaw who was several years older than her.

Todd said nothing, still searching among the shelves for some mysterious object.

Mr Ollivander turned to Maggie. 'You'll start as soon as you're done with school, yes? Feel free to correspond with me directly until then.'

She met Mr Ollivander's kindly gaze, and what he said next took days to truly sink in.

'Congratulations, Miss Gibson. Welcome to Ollivander's.'


	9. Severus Snape

'Bless you. Again.'

'Thanks,' Todd croaked, sniffling. 'That one actually __hurt__.'

'Todd,' Mr Iqbal said, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as they stood in the bustling second-floor workshop, about a dozen crew members working and chattering around them, 'you're clearly coming down with something. Why don't you just nip round and see your friend at Slug & Jiggers to get that cold sorted, before you infect everyone at Ollivander's?'

'I will, I will,' Todd said. 'Just let me focus. I'm almost done.'

Wrapping oneself in a Warming Charm, unfortunately, didn't mean you weren't still exposed to the elements, and the morning after the unicorn hunt, Todd had woken up with a tickle in his throat that had rapidly deteriorated into a full-blown head cold over the course of the day.

But Todd was not to be deterred. A sore throat wasn't the only thing he'd awoken to today. He'd also been struck with a burst of inspiration for a carving pattern for a vine-wood wand that Todd was rather certain that, when paired with the Hungarian Horntail heartstring he'd procured, would likely make for an exceptional wand.

This would be the one — Todd's first wand that would actually be sold in the shop. Todd knew it; he could sense it. Todd had produced several practise wands over the past year, and the last two were so strong that Miss Kim and Coakley were baffled that Mr Ollivander had insisted that they weren't quite good enough to sell. If this wand that Todd was mulling over in his head didn't impress his dad, then... well... Todd wasn't going to think about that. This wand would be brilliant. It _had_ to be.

What was his dad playing at, Todd thought angrily for the dozenth time as he surveyed the dozens of vines that Mr Iqbal had laid out on the workshop table, asking Maggie to be his apprentice? Todd's face had burned with embarrassment and indignation when he'd watched his dad make her that offer as Todd had stood, looking through the transparent wall with Sana, Nate and Will. Todd had been an apprentice for nearly eight years at this point, but still, his dad had told him from the onset that his apprenticeship would extend far beyond the typical length. But apparently, things had changed. It appeared that his dad was growing weary of him. Even now, his dad was off at Hogwarts, discussing god knows what with Dumbledore while Todd worked on his own today.

But Todd could improve his father's opinion of him, he thought, desperately determined. This wand would fix that.

'Todd, do you have to touch __every__ vine?' Mr Iqbal said in exasperation as he shot sterilising spells at the heap of vines on the table. 'You've sneezed three different times while we've been standing here.'

'Into my arm, not into my hands,' Todd said sheepishly. 'I'm sorry, Mr Iqbal, but I __have__ to touch them. I have to get a sense of each one's flexibility, not to mention that I have to see which ones I feel drawn to, which ones I have a connection to.'

Mr Iqbal sighed; he knew Todd was right. Todd continued to sift through the pile.

'Now, you do know that vine wood is extremely tricky to shape into a wand?' Mr Iqbal said softly, watching Todd carefully. 'What you're planning, it's a difficult undertaking.'

'I've done it before.'

'I know. And you've excelled at it. In lessons, with your father at your side. But are you sure this is the material you want to pick for this project of yours? You and I both know what your father's standards are.'

'I can do it,' Todd said, determined. 'Trust me, I'm positive about this.' Todd took off his glasses, holding up a couple vines close to his face. 'These two — they're from Spain, right? They're the ones I procured from the gathering trip three years ago?'

'Yes,' Mr Iqbal said, impressed. 'Good eye. And good memory.'

Todd had been badgering Mr Iqbal — the head Gatherer at Ollivander's, who also happened to be Sana's dad — about vine wood all day, discussing what he had in mind, and the vines that Mr Iqbal had picked out from the warehouse were perfect. Todd put aside the two vines that he'd personally gathered, along with two others that were exactly what he was looking for.

'A wandsmith doesn't necessarily need to have procured the wood himself in order to have a connection to the materials,' Mr Iqbal pointed out.

'No,' Todd said, 'but it helps.'

'True.' Mr Iqbal smiled. 'It helps.'

'Right. These four — these'll do,' Todd said, picking up the vines that were best suited for what he had in mind. Satisfied, Mr Iqbal cast another round of sterilising spells on the vines that remained as Todd placed the four vines carefully in a box at his workstation, then put that box under the table. 'Sana,' Todd said, looking over at the two people at the table next to his, 'can you make sure that no one touches these? These are really important to me.'

'I don't think _anyone_ will want to touch those, Todd,' Sana said, raising her eyebrows at a lightly coughing Todd as she worked alongside her own mentor, Miss Kim.

'Now, for god's sake Todd, go get some Pepperup Potion for yourself,' Mr Iqbal said, waving him out.

'Gladly,' he said cheerfully, heading toward the spiral staircase to grab his top hat and his cloak upstairs.

* * *

Despite Todd's health, he still decided to walk to Slug & Jiggers rather than Apparate. It was the 20th of December, and Diagon Alley looked like a Christmas card. Snow flurries had just dusted all the rooftops of the shops. The tall lanterns along the street were decorated with holly and tinsel, and wreaths were hung on nearly every door and shopfront. Even in the cold, Wilkins was, as usual, strumming his harpsolin. He tipped his hat as Todd tossed a Sickle into his case while Wilkins played 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs'.

Todd weaved his way through the river of shoppers bundled in cloaks of emerald and plum and scarlet and, inevitably, his thoughts turned to Maggie.

Honestly, Todd had been sort of relieved when Maggie had bungled her interview six months ago because it meant that he wouldn't have to face her again after blowing up at her at the Leaky Cauldron. Now, it was giving him a bit of a panic attack to know that the girl he'd made a fool of himself in front of would soon be working at Ollivander's. Whether or not Maggie had led him on intentionally wasn't really relevant anymore. The fact was, he had made an arse of himself that day last summer. He must have looked pathetic, regardless of whether he'd imagined everything or whether she'd known exactly what she was doing.

However, Todd could still appreciate that Maggie's display yesterday evening had been brilliant. The hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end as he watched her — was there anything more thrilling in the world than a good bit of magic? — but his thoughts about her performance were complicated by own insecurities and his dad's offer that she be his apprentice.

Todd was tormented by the thought that he wasn't a great wandsmith, that he would never be as renowned as his dad. His father was extremely critical of his work. No matter how hard Todd worked, no matter how he showed that he was as good as, if not better than, Will and Sana, it was never good enough for his dad.

Todd had only slept a couple hours last night. After Maggie left, he told the apprentices to head to the Leaky Cauldron without him and, instead, he snuck into the empty workshop to see if he could replicate the spells that she had performed at her interview. He lit the room on fire with bluebell flames. He levitated a room full of coins and made them spin, made them move seamlessly in waves. Uninterested in the minerals in the coins, he'd turned toward an oak table and, after multiple excruciating efforts, transfigured it into an enormous oaken clock, which also told perfect time.

But, these charms had taken intense concentration and infuriating trial-and-error, had taken a full, uninterrupted night of practise for Todd to finally complete, exhausted and sweaty. How long had Maggie worked to perfect them? Was she able to perform them easily, without a second thought? She had bungled them a bit at her first interview, sure, but she'd been nervous. Would Todd have been able to do all that if he'd had just a Hogwarts education, like Maggie had? The potential answer to this last question terrified Todd.

Todd was currently, as Derek often put it, 'spinning out,' and he needed his confident friend to anchor him with a few reassuring words of encouragement and maybe a drink or two, which he would likely feel up to once he had that Pepperup Potion.

Todd opened the door to Slug & Jiggers, the earthy smells of plant roots and the sour scents of pickled animal organs hitting him instantly despite how stuffed up his sinuses were. He nodded at Derek's coworker — their old Potions classmate who was manning the counter with a demeanor about as cheery as an Augurey.

'All right, Severus?'

Surprisingly, Snape acknowledged Todd, flicking his eyes up briefly with a curt 'hhhm.' Snape must be full of Christmas cheer, Todd thought, suppressing a smile, to not ignore him entirely like he normally did when he popped by to see Derek.

Todd rubbed his hands together and blew on them as he approached the counter. 'How much does a bottle of Pepperup Potion go for these days? I caught something nasty yesterday, and if I don't take something for it soon, I think they'll have me quarantined at work.'

'Two Galleons,' Snape said without looking up from a piece of parchment he was writing on. Todd fished in his pockets and placed the coins on the counter. The corners of Todd's mouth twitched as Snape shot the same sterilising spell at the money that Mr Iqbal had used before putting the money in the till and going in the back to obtain a bottle full of the fizzy, bright-red liquid that Todd associated with cosy relief.

Todd uncorked the bottle right there in the shop and took a long swig. The potion soothed his throat instantly and he felt his sinuses slowly begin to open up and drain. He walked toward a rickety wooden chair against the wall and melted into it, his glasses fogging up as he blew out a slow cloud of warm steam from his mouth.

'That's the stuff,' Todd sighed, leaning his head against the wall as he closed his eyes, steam curling slowly out of his ears. He sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the effect the potion was having on him. He took out his handkerchief to clear his head of the residual nastiness from his cold, and Snape surveyed him with mild disgust.

'So, Severus,' Todd said, cleaning his handkerchief with a tap of his wand before he took off his glasses to clean them as well, 'how goes it at the old apothecary? You've been here for, what, six months now?'

'The ingredients are substandard, the temperature control fluctuates, and brewing in a back room doesn't provide the sequestration necessary for ideal potions-brewing,' Snape said, returning to his piece of parchment. 'The cauldrons are far too open to the elements.'

Todd raised his eyebrows, impressed and amused. 'That is a... much more thorough analysis than anything I've heard from Derek.'

'Yes,' Snape said icily. 'Hiring in Diagon Alley seems to be highly arbitrary.'

Todd blinked, frowning just slightly, a little annoyed at Snape's swipe at Derek and attempting to deduce the extra layer of meaning in that sentence.

Suddenly, the polar opposite of Snape burst through the back doors. Derek Malkin was taking off a pair of gloves and untying a heavy apron, grinning at Todd.

'Ollivander! I thought that was you I heard earlier, hacking up a lung. Feeling under the weather?'

'Not anymore,' Todd said, gently shaking the half-empty bottle of potion in his hand.

'Brilliant. So you're up for a —' he clicked his tongue twice, miming a drinking motion.

'Absolutely.'

Snape raised an eyebrow. 'You just magically bolstered your immune system not less than five minutes ago. You're going to weaken it again with alcohol?'

Todd cleared his throat. 'Yes,' he said happily. 'Yes I am.'

'As a matter of fact, Severus, you ought to join us,' Derek said. 'Let me buy you a drink to thank you for helping me fix that cauldron of Skele-Gro that I nearly botched earlier today.'

Snape paused, his eyes sliding slowly along the counter and up the wall. 'All right,' he said finally.

Derek looked up at Todd with an expression of astonished delight, while Todd shot Derek a look of apoplectic indignation. Snape was amusing enough for a couple of minutes, but Todd was convinced that their night had just gone to shit thanks to his mate's idiotic invitation. So much for confiding in Malkin tonight. It wouldn't be safe to talk about Maggie or Ollivander's or anything else like that. There wasn't any evidence that Snape had any connection to You-Know-Who or the Death Eaters, but, still — everyone in Diagon Alley was rather suspicious of Snape's allegiances.

Proving Todd's point, Snape said, 'Have you ever been to the Fenny Snake?'

'The Fenny Snake?' Todd said dubiously. 'In Knockturn Alley?'

'Brilliant!' Malkin exclaimed. 'No, we haven't!'

'For good reason,' Todd interjected.

'Oh, come on, mate! We could use a change of scenery! I'm sick of sitting at our same old table with our same old pitcher of Goblin-made ale at the Leaky Cauldron night after night.'

'I like it just fine,' Todd grumbled.

'I'll get my cloak, and we can close up,' Snape said, gliding through the back doors.

Todd stood up and stomped toward Derek. ' _Are you off your nut_?' he hissed. 'I'm not going to the Fenny Snake with Severus bloody Snape!'

'Look mate,' Derek said, putting his arm around Todd and talking to him in a low voice as he fanned away some of the steam that was still coming out of Todd's ears, 'I'm _trying_ to win Snape over. As much as I love this bit we have going, where I say something, and he pretends that it's the stupidest thing he's ever heard,' Malkin said, the corners of his mouth twitching, 'it's sort of... draining, working with him every day. I know he and I are never going to be best mates, but if I could at least get him to stop despising me entirely, it would make this job a good deal more pleasant. He's never taken me up on my invitation to come out before. Help me out here, please.'

Todd sighed. 'Fine...' Derek clapped him enthusiastically on the back. 'If I get hexed while I'm there, though, I swear, I'm telling your mum that you dragged me into Knockturn Alley.'

Derek's eyes widened nervously at the prospect of facing the wrath of Madam Malkin. He smiled anxiously. 'Well, lucky for me, I've never seen a single person send a hex Todd Ollivander's way that he didn't block.'

'Oh, well, brilliant then, I'll be our bloody body guard tonight.'

* * *

Todd was certainly on his guard as he, Derek and Snape descended the shadowy steps near Flourish and Blotts to make their way into Knockturn Alley. Todd held his wand openly as several witches and warlocks eyed him, muttering to those next to them. Dark wizards didn't like the Ollivanders one bit. Wandmakers could, in one fell swoop, put an end to the acceptance of Muggle-borns in the wizarding world if they wanted to. All Ollivander's would have to do is put up one of those sickening 'NO MUDBLOODS' signs, and, just like that, Lord Voldemort's goal of barring Muggle-born witches and wizards from magic would be accomplished.

Todd was fiercely proud of Ollivander's refusal to back down, no matter how many death threats they received. Of course, standing their ground had its consequences. It was the reason that Miss Kim had lost her fingers, that Coakley looked like 'the Phantom of the bloody Opera' — a reference Coakley made so often that Todd had once spent an entire day reclining in a leather armchair at Charing Cross Library years ago, devouring that Muggle novel, to understand what the hell Coakley was talking about.

It was almost comical how the Christmas cheer in Diagon Alley abruptly ended once Snape, Derek and Todd stepped onto Knockturn's Alley's dodgy street. Todd had heard Wilkins' music perfectly while they'd been near Flourish and Blotts, but once they'd touched down into this godforsaken place, he couldn't hear the troubadour's harpsolin even when he strained his ears. There were no more wreaths, no more holly, no more picturesque snow.

Snape led them toward a dark pub with a sign that simply had an etching on it of a snake that looked like it was about to pounce. There weren't nearly enough candles inside, and Todd squinted in the dim light. It wasn't anywhere close to as crowded as the Leaky Cauldron would've been around this time of day, though there were still a couple dozen people hunching over drinks throughout the pub.

Todd had decided to make a quick detour to the toilet first when they arrived, so he missed the opportunity to have Derek pay for his drink. He left the dingy toilet and headed toward the bar, the grizzled barman eyeing him darkly.

'Hullo... I'll have, er, a pint of Goblin-made ale.'

'No Goblin-made ale here,' the barman grunted.

'Ah. Well, firewhisky then.'

'No firewhisky.'

 _ _No firewhisky__ , Todd thought incredulously _._ _ _Why would anyone even want to be a Dark wizard if it meant no firewhisky?__

'Right, well... I'll have... I'll have... I dunno, mate, what's your poison? Er, I mean,' he said, realising that this might be exactly the kind of place that would give him a glass of literal poison, 'what — what's your preferred drink?'

'A Black Eye,' the warlock said, stony-faced.

'One Black Eye, please.'

The warlock banged a tumbler onto the bar, pouring out some ink-black liquid from a bottle into it. Todd regarded it dubiously as he picked it up. 'Er... cheers,' he said as he paid.

Even in the dim light, he found Snape and Derek instantly — Derek was the only person in the room who was laughing. Malkin was almost certainly laughing at something he himself had said, considering that Snape, who was regarding Derek with a look of mild disdain, was unlikely to be cracking jokes.

'Oh, you're drinking _wine_ ,' Todd said, looking at their drinks as he sat down, placing his top hat on the table. 'It didn't even occur to me to order elf-made wine.'

'Snape, I'm telling you,' Derek said, continuing whatever conversation they'd been having, 'you won't be able to become Potions Master at Hogwarts at your age. Settle in at Slug & Jiggers for a while, get a good ten years under your belt, get on Murphy's good side so he'll give you a good recommendation, and then maybe you'll have a shot at the post.'

'I'll never suck up to Murphy. Murphy,' Snape said, 'is an idiot.'

'No argument from me there,' Derek said sympathetically. 'But that's just how it works. You won't get anywhere at any job if the boss doesn't like you.'

'I think this might just be straight vodka,' Todd said tightly, coughing a bit after taking a cautious sip of his drink. 'But why is it _black_?'

'I'm owed a good recommendation, considering that, before I arrived, the potions at Slug & Jiggers were about as reliable as 1700s-era Muggle tonics.'

'See, that's the sort of point I'd, er, _reframe_ a bit when you're talking to Murphy.'

Todd snorted.

'It's nice to talk about my own industry for once,' Derek said cheerily. 'Whenever Ollivander and I go out, I can't get him to stop talking about cores and carving styles.'

'Malkin —' Todd protested, partly because he disagreed with that and partly because the last thing he wanted was to give Snape an opening to talk about Ollivander's.

'I can hardly blame him,' Snape said smoothly. 'Wandlore is a fascinating field of study. I imagine you're working toward becoming a wandsmith?'

Todd grunted noncommittally.

'But, of course, while you're an apprentice, you still have to learn all the aspects of wandlore, correct? Gathering the right sort of wand wood, hunting and obtaining materials from magical creatures, carving a wand, reciting the incantation to create it —'

'How do you know all this, Severus?' Todd asked abruptly.

'Your friend told me,' Snape said calmly, gesturing toward Malkin. 'As you know, he's very… talkative.'

Todd sighed, annoyed, picturing Derek happily chatting Snape's ear off as they chopped valerian roots in the back of Slug & Jiggers. 'Malkin,' Todd said, 'you can't just go around blabbing about the inner workings of Ollivander's to anyone —'

'But,' Snape said, 'you had no problem sharing these details with that Mud—'

A heatwave of anger surged through Todd, and he jerked toward Snape so quickly that their rickety bar table swayed. Derek looked nervously between the two of them.

'— that Muggle-born girl,' Snape said, inclining his head apologetically. Snape's arm had shifted to make it easier to grab his wand if necessary. Todd's was already in his hand. 'Though I suppose that's different. She applied for an apprenticeship, did she not? Though I heard she failed.'

'Which was a huge surprise,' Derek cut in. 'From what I hear, the girl has invented several spells and she knows how to conjure fake gold. Honestly, I doubt she's a Muggle-born. It's possible that she thinks she is, but she's actually not. She's like an orphan or something, isn't that right, Todd?'

'I don't know,' Todd answered honestly, trying to keep his anger under control and keep his wits about him during what was a very suspicious line of questioning from Snape. He decided not to share the information that Maggie had got the apprenticeship. 'I know she lives with her brother.'

'Is her brother a wizard?' Snape asked.

'Not sure,' Todd lied. He knew he was a Muggle.

'And, there's another reason to think that she might have some ancient magical blood in her,' Derek said, shooting a knowing look at Todd. 'Everyone always talks about who she looks like.'

Todd squinted sceptically up at the ceiling. He'd heard students talk about this before, of course, but there was no basis to the theory. Personally, he didn't even really think Maggie looked all that much like —

'Rowena Ravenclaw — and the Grey Lady as well,' Derek said, answering the question that Snape's quizzical expression was asking. 'It's uncanny, really.'

'It's really not _uncanny_ ,' Todd said. 'She looks more like the Grey Lady than she looks like Rowena Ravenclaw, and we don't know who the Grey Lady was, when she was alive.'

'Yes, but there are rumors,' Derek said. 'Everyone's rather certain that the Grey Lady's descended from the Ravenclaw line in some sort of way.'

'It's just that all three of them are pretty, and all three of them have got curly hair,' Todd said, still staring up at the ceiling with a slight frown. What annoyed Todd about all this was that Hogwarts students seem to have been so baffled that a Muggle-born witch could be so highly skilled that they'd woven this fantasy tale so that things made more sense in their heads. The nine years of terror Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters had wrought had shifted the way witches and wizards thought about these things, Todd thought bitterly.

The mystery of Maggie's lineage was certainly heightened by the fact nobody seemed to know basic facts about Maggie's parents — whether they were alive or dead, or whether she knew who they were or not. Any time she'd mentioned her home life in the couple of months that she and Todd had been speaking regularly, she'd vaguely mentioned a brother — Simon — and nothing else, and Todd had felt it wasn't his place to pry.

'So you still think she's pretty, mate?' Derek asked, grinning.

Todd opened his mouth before shutting it, frowning. He shrugged grumpily.

'Was that why she was able to gain an interview at Ollivander's?' Snape asked. Instead of looking amused, he looked rather annoyed. 'Because you found her pretty?'

'I didn't need to find her anything at all for her to get her interview. Anyone can interview for a position at the shop — Maggie especially. She's one of the brightest witches of our age.'

Snape snorted. 'I know the brightest witch of our age,' he said, 'and it's not Maggie Gibson.'

'Well, I said "one of".'

'Who do you think is the brightest witch of our age?' Derek asked curiously.

'Undoubtedly he thinks it's some pureblood,' Todd said impatiently before Snape could answer, 'because how could a Muggle-born possibly excel in the wizarding world above these bloody ancient houses people are so fond of unless she was secretly some direct descendent from Rowena Ravenclaw or some rubbish like that. It's a good thing that prejudiced wizards like you, Malkin, come up with these ridiculous theories to appease your bloody confirmation bias, so at least people like Maggie get to deal with some benevolent prejudice every now and then.'

Derek sighed. 'The girl can conjure fake gold, Ollivander. It's not so absurd for me to think that she's more than just a Muggle-born.'

'"More than just a Muggle-born" is a phrase that is absolute nonsense.'

'I know _you_ feel that way, but mate, look — just to play devil's advocate for a moment —'

'Literally devil's advocate,' Todd muttered darkly, thinking of Lord Voldemort.

'When two Muggles have a baby, ninety-nine percent of the time, that baby is a Muggle. When a witch and a wizard have a child, ninety-nine percent of the time, that child is a witch or a wizard.'

'Actually, the rate is ninety-two percent,' Todd cut in.

'So therefore,' Malkin continued, 'magic and genes have got to be _somewhat_ connected. And a Muggle-born, even if their magical gene is there, it's very possible that it's weaker than someone who comes from a long line of witches and wizards. No one knows for sure.'

'People _do know,_ ' Todd said. 'There have been studies. Charity Burbage has painstakingly researched the topic, gathered more data than anyone ever has before, and she has _proven_ that there is no connection between blood and magical ability.'

Derek rolled his eyes at the mention of Burbage's name. 'Burbage is a dowdy, below-average-looking witch who's desperate to find any man who'll have her — wizard, Squib, Muggle, or otherwise. Of course she's going to advocate for Muggle-magic relations, isn't she? I can't believe people listen to that bird.'

Todd gritted his teeth. This was Malkin at his worst, and Todd felt his blood beginning to boil. Snape was watching them argue with a sort of detached curiosity. 'Her research is more thorough than anything the wizarding world has ever produced.'

'Are you really telling me that your Ollivander blood means nothing? I can count on one hand the number of people who can produce a Photothinsentia Charm or an Ideaway Charm, and you're one of them!'

'Correct: It has nothing to do with what's in my veins and everything to do with what's in my head — my work ethic, my training, and my, well, frankly, my desire to prove myself to my dad, who by the way, is completely unimpressed that I can perform a perfect Photothinsentia Charm.' Todd broke off for a second, a little crestfallen. He sighed, then suddenly snapped back to their current conversation. 'And that's exactly what Charity Burbage's research has proven — that our birth does not make us who we are, but that it's up to us, and only us, to decide how great we become.'

'Is Todd talking about Charity Burbage again?' asked a voice behind Todd that made him tense up suddenly. 'Even in Knockturn Alley, it's impossible for him not to bring up his favourite professor.'

Todd winced, unable to turn around to face his old girlfriend. This explained why he never saw Deirdre Fortescue in the Leaky Cauldron since he'd become old enough to drink; she must prefer this place. He could feel his brain shutting down. Why did his brain always shut down around girls who drove him mad?

'Deirdre!' Malkin said pleasantly. 'What's a nice witch like you doing in a place like this?'

'I see that Todd is giving me the same welcome he always does these days when we run into each other on the street,' Deirdre said. Even though Todd wasn't looking at her, he knew exactly what she looked like right now — arms crossed, eyebrow cocked, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Likely in her lovely pink robes that she favoured.

'Well, Deirdre,' Malkin said good-naturedly, 'the thing about Todd is, he tends to get a bit gloomy around people who broke his heart. He's a strange creature like that.'

Todd felt the heat rising in his face. He slumped down in his chair a bit.

Deirdre put a hand on Todd's shoulder, and he jumped, still unable to turn around.

'You'll need a good deal of Croke's tonic tomorrow morning, after drinking that, Todd,' she breathed in his ear. Todd suddenly felt a bit woozy. 'A Black Eye is a particularly nasty drink.'

Derek eyed Deirdre disapprovingly as she walked away, returning to the side of some bloke who Todd didn't recognise. 'That girl is addicted to the power that she wields over you. I've never seen a woman take so much delight in tormenting a man, and that's saying something.'

Todd grunted as he watched Deirdre giggle at something the wizard said, placing a hand on his chest as she laughed. Yep. She was, indeed, donning her pink robes. But despite the distraction of Deirdre's sudden appearance at the pub, something else was nagging at the corners of Todd's mind. He suddenly felt slightly sick, realising that he'd shared probably a little too much about his opinions of Muggle-borns around Severus Snape, who he really knew very little about. Hadn't Malkin said that Snape never took him up on his offer to go out? What was different this time — was it that Todd was here? Todd felt his palms start to sweat. And maybe it would've been better for Maggie — and for the safety of Ollivander's — if he attempted to spread, rather than squelch, the rumor that she might be a long-lost Ravenclaw descendent. He really didn't know when to shut up, did he?

Todd stood up abruptly. 'I'm exhausted. Didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm going to call it a night.'

'Ollivander,' Derek said softly, jerking his thumb to the door, 'we can get out of here. I know how you get around Deirdre. Let's head to the Leaky Cauldron.'

'No, I'm — I'm good. I'll see you around, mate. Er, happy Christmas, Severus. I — I probably won't see you again for a while. Busy time, Christmas, you know how it is.'

He turned on the spot, ignoring Derek's protests, intent on talking to his dad tonight about the possibility of improving security at Ollivander's in anticipation of Maggie's arrival.


	10. Simon Gibson

The next few months of school flew by for Maggie. Classes at Hogwarts, previously a joy for her, seemed suddenly dull and childish. She found herself relying more and more on her enchanted noiseless typewriter. Professors would dismiss classes that she hadn't heard a word of, and she'd be relieved to find that her typewriter, at least, had been taking careful notes.

When Maggie finished the last exam of her Sixth Year, it was all she could bear not to run out onto the Hogwarts grounds, past the school's borders and twirl on the spot to Apparate directly into the sunlit room in Ollivander's and begin her first lesson with Mr Coakley.

But Maggie's boyfriend was unhappy enough with her decision not to take the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross with him.

'Come on, Maggie. One last time, let's ride the train,' Robbie said, trying to convince her the fifth time that day.

'I'll take it back with you after our Seventh Year,' Maggie coaxed. 'That will be our one last time. For now, I've got to be at Ollivander's this afternoon. I told them ages ago that I'd Apparate from Hogwarts on my last day.'

'You're far too important for me now,' Robbie said, sighing playfully. 'I s'pose I shouldn't hold you back with my childish train rides.'

It wasn't surprising that Robbie was making one last attempt to wheedle her onto the train. Maggie was certainly dragging her feet a bit, holding hands with him as they stood in a large queue of students who were awaiting carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade Station.

'You're going to miss a good show, you know,' Robbie said, a sly smile spreading over his face. 'Now that Potter and Black have left Hogwarts, they've passed the torch on to Brunner and me and a few others. We'll be mooning the Oxford students when we pass through!'

Maggie snorted. 'Ooh, what a shame that I'll miss that. You know they can't see you, right? Muggles can't see the Hogwarts Express at all, let alone the people inside it.'

'Well yes, that's the point, isn't it?' Robbie said. 'Those wankers are puttering about, reading philosophy and talking about a bunch of Greek muggles from two thousand years ago, and unbeknownst to them while they're contemplating the meaning of life, a bunch of wizard arses are flying by their noses.'

Maggie laughed. She had to admit, she was starting to regret that she'd told Mr Ollivander she wanted to start her lessons the very first day of her summer holiday. She lingered with Robbie far longer than she planned to, until they reached the front of the queue and a carriage rolled up. Maggie warily eyed the Thestral that she knew Robbie couldn't see as he threw his trunk into the carriage.

'I'll see you in a few days,' Maggie said, smiling.

'Owl me and tell me how it went today,' Robbie said, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her. 'Hopefully you'll learn a few hexes to use on Ollivander Junior, eh?'

She smiled. Robbie, like Flitwick, had taken to calling Todd a git, along with a few other choice names that Maggie guessed that Flitwick probably would not use. He boarded the carriage and gave her a wink as the carriage slowly pulled him from her. Maggie sighed sadly. She dragged her trunk the few paces needed to get past the Hogwarts gates and turned on the spot.

* * *

Maggie's trunk was, as usual, extremely heavy, and she yelped as she accidentally dropped it on her foot in the pitch-black maintenance cupboard that she'd Apparated into. It fell over sideways, knocking over a tremendous amount of mops, brooms, buckets, a hoover and a half-dozen bottles of cleaning supplies. Maggie winced at the noise and the pain.

She opened the cupboard door carefully to find a woman about to go into a flat, holding a toddler in her arms, staring, open-mouthed and flabbergasted, as Maggie — clad in black robes and lugging an enormous trunk behind her — tumbled out into the hallway with the grubby carpet that she knew so well.

' _'ow long 'ave you been in there for_?' the mum demanded, looking like she was wondering whether she ought to get away from this weirdo she was suddenly face-to-face with.

Maggie laughed nervously. 'I, er, I needed... er... this,' she said, grabbing a bottle of bleach from the floor. Maggie heard a tremendous snort down the hall and turned to see Simon, clad in his navy blue mechanic's jumpsuit, his arms crossed as he smirked at her predicament.

The woman seemed even more unnerved by Maggie's lame excuse, and she turned the key to her flat and swooped inside with her baby. Maggie heard her frantically turning the locks on the other side.

'You could've just Evaporated directly into the flat, you know,' Simon said.

'I didn't want to startle you,' Maggie said, grinning as she walked toward him, and she wrapped him in a warm hug as she reached him.

'Well, I was about to enjoy a nice, quiet lunch break by meself, but I s'pose I'll 'ave to entertain you for a while now instead,' Simon grumbled. Maggie smiled at this lie as he opened the door to their London flat, waving her through first as he took her trunk and dragged it through the door.

The barn owl that Simon kept to stay in touch with Maggie hooted happily as they came inside. The fact that Simon's grumblings about expecting to eat alone was a fib was further confirmed for Maggie as she saw that Simon, who rarely drank tea around this time of day, had the kettle on for her. Simon started making sandwiches for the both of them while Maggie pulled mugs and teabags out of the cupboard.

'Now, I can't stay _too_ long,' Maggie said. 'I've got to be at Ollivander's really soon, but I wanted to come see you first.'

'Ooooooooh!' Simon said mockingly. ' _Pardon_ me, madam, for taking you away from your posh little job. I forgot that servants are best seen and not 'eard, I'll be out of your 'air in a minute.'

'Which is it, Simon?' Maggie teased. 'Are you annoyed that I'm back and taking up space in the flat now, or are you annoyed that I'm not giving you as much attention as you'd like?'

Simon chose not to answer this, putting things back into the fridge with a raised eyebrow.

'So, how iz ze German?'

Maggie sighed, exasperated. 'For the last time, Simon, Robbie's not _German_. His name is Robbie bloody Ellerby!'

'Well, he _lives_ in Germany, don't he? You spent the Easter 'olidays wiv 'im there.'

'Yeah, that's where his family lives. But they're not German either.'

'Right. Making feather dusters in the Black Forest.'

' _Broomsticks_. His dad co-owns a _broomstick_ company,' Maggie said, smiling and rolling her eyes. Simon knew this. He also knew the word 'Apparated,' though he seemed to take pleasure in pretending to be willfully ignorant of these things.

'So does that little twat, Tom or Tuck Oliver —'

' _Todd Ollivander_.'

'— Todd Oliver, fink that you've bin going out wiv the German for a year just so you could see some brooms?'

'I dunno what he thinks,' Maggie said, suddenly a bit sour. She was regretting telling as many people as she had about what Todd had said to her, though she could hardly have kept it from Simon. She spent the night after her disastrous interview crying at the flat. 'I haven't spoken to him in a year.'

'Well that'll be delightful, won't it, working wiv 'im.'

'I won't really need to work with him. Not for years, at least.' Maggie shrugged. 'I think I can go most of this summer without seeing him. Let's change the subject, shall we?'

Simon shrugged as he ate, leaning against the kitchen counter. ''ave you brought that little gramophone back wiv you? There's a brilliantgroup called The Salvadors. I 'eard a DJ play them back in a club ages ago, and I can't find any of their records.' He smiled. 'I'd love to 'ear them again.'

* * *

Less than an hour later, Maggie's boots hit the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley with a satisfactory thud, and the witches and wizards flowing around her adjusted their steps, unfazed by the sudden appearance of a human being out of thin air. As she strode toward Ollivander's, looking up at the shop's sign that declared it had been in this trade 'since 382 B.C.,' she remembered again why she'd wanted to start at Ollivander's the very first possible day. It felt like volts of electricity were flowing through her veins. She couldn't have wiped the grin off her face if she'd wanted to; it was a totally involuntary response.

Maggie practically skipped forward as she went to push open the door, and as she rushed into the shop she was hit with a tremendous wave of water that dumped itself over her head and made its way into her nose and mouth. She sputtered and gasped as Mr Garrick Ollivander and Mr Coakley rushed toward her, drying her off with swift waves of their wands.

So much for not seeing Todd, who had jumped as she'd suddenly come through the door. He was standing behind the counter, using a quill to write in a huge, leather-bound ledger book. Her noisy entrance into the shop seemed to have alarmed him slightly, and he stared at her for a moment as she coughed, her curls dripping around her face. He reddened slightly as he returned to whatever he was writing, ignoring her.

'Sorry about that, hen,' Mr Coakley said, chuckling a bit. 'Thief's Doonfall. Probably best for our customers if we put up a wee warning sign, eh Ollivander?'

'That's not a terrible idea, no,' Mr Ollivander said mildly.

Maggie coughed a couple more times. 'Why the precautions?' she said.

Mr Ollivander and Mr Coakley exchanged a look.

'Is it because of me?' she asked weakly. She noticed Todd inching slowly toward the wand shelves. Soon after he disappeared among them, Maggie thought she heard a soft _pop_.

'In a way, yes,' Mr Ollivander said lightly. 'But it's good for all of us. We should've put up security measures like this ages ago.'

'I might not have this attractive thing —' Mr Coakley said, gesturing to his burn mark, '— if we'd put up a Thief's Doonfall sooner.'

'Let's get you into some green apprentice robes, shall we?' Mr Ollivander said, smiling. 'As soon as you sent us your measurements, we had Madam Malkin make a pair for you. It's something of an Ollivander's tradition — apprentices in green, wandsmiths in black, Beast Hunters in scarlet, and Gatherers in violet. A bit ridiculous of us, perhaps, but it's one of the few things from the old days that I just can't seem to part with. I believe my son has gone to grab the robes we have for you?' There was silence from the shelves. 'Todd?'

'Ah, Garrick, if, er —' Mr Coakley seemed to be exerting a tremendous amount of willpower to keep from laughing '— if I'm no' mistaken, I believe the boy _Apparated_.'

'Apparated? What?' Mr Ollivander said, baffled, as he went to the shelves to look for him. 'Why on earth would he do that? He knows I need him here at the counter today.'

'Couldnae tell you,' Mr Coakley said, shrugging and feigning ignorance as he fought back a smirk. Maggie felt the heat rising in her face slightly.

'Well.' Mr Ollivander's still confused voice came from within the wand shelves, and he emerged holding a pair of emerald green robes. 'Here they are, then. You can change into them in a room down the back.'

'We'll be holdin' lessons in the same room where your interview was held last time, hen,' Mr Coakley said, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him. He showed her to a room where she could change.

Once she was alone inside the room, Maggie nervously pulled off her Hogwarts robes and quickly pulled the green robes over her head. They were a lovely material, light and flowing, unlike any robes she'd ever worn before. She knew Coakley was waiting for her outside and she didn't want to dawdle, but she stopped as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

'I'm a wandsmith's apprentice,' she murmured, a shaky smile of pure joy playing on her face as she looked at the nervous girl donning emerald green robes.

* * *

Once Maggie was inside the sunlit room, Mr Coakley took a seat on one side of a square table where a small, thin box sat, and he gestured for Maggie to sit across from him.

He opened the box, which held a single wand inside.

'Mr Ollivander said this wand would be perfect for our purposes the day,' he said, handling it delicately. 'It was made in a way that we donnae condone here at Ollivander's.' He pressed it against his palm with only his thumb and drew out his own wand. Carefully, he pointed his wand at the tip, and, dragging it across what Maggie assumed was a reject wand, cut it open. Maggie leaned forward, fascinated to see a shimmering purple substance that looked like melted glass swirling slowly inside the wood.

'I'd like tae hear your thoughts,' Mr Coakley said, his eyes searching her. 'Tell us what you see.' Holding it at both ends, he passed her the dissected wand, and, hesitating at first, she took it.

She held it as Mr Coakley had, with an open palm. It was an awe-inspiring sight, beholding the inside of an item that was the key to casting spells for every witch and wizard on Earth. She had carried one on her person for six years, and yet she was completely ignorant of what its contents looked like. There was a dark, damp item at the core, and she examined it closely.

'This is a phoenix feather,' she said, and Mr Coakley nodded, pleased. 'That's what I have inside my wand. I always pictured the quill end of the feather at the tip of the wand, but this has the quill at the base,' she said, tilting her head to the side. 'Is it always like that?'

'Aye,' he said. 'Phoenix feather is a powerful object through and through, but its strongest bit is the quill, so we put that bit just about two inches before the base o' the wand, where your thumb typically goes,' he said, pointing.

Two inches above the base. Maggie examined that area closely. The purple substance seemed to be attracted to that section, flowing to that particular part of the wand, where it swirled and bubbled more rapidly than any other area.

'Is the part where your thumb goes the heart of the wand?'

'Aye. The core o' the core. Very good.'

'I have no idea what this purple stuff could possibly be, other than the fact that it's obviously extremely important to the magic here. Whenever you see purple from some charm or spell, it often signifies that the magic is incredibly powerful.'

'It's called thauma. It's produced as the result of a lengthy incantation, it usually takes about 20 minutes tae recite, plus the breath and blood of the wandsmith.'

'Wizard's blood?' she said, taken aback.

'Aye.'

'You can't be serious! Isn't that a sign of Dark magic?'

'A commonly held misconception,' Coakley said, holding up a finger. 'Blood is required for intense enchantments of creation, and yes, sometimes wizards use blood tae create something Dark. But we use that intense force for something great,' he said, pulling out his wand and looking at it curiously. 'Magic is _inside_ us. To impart that magic to an object, we must, in one way or another, share a bit of ourselves with it.'

Maggie watched, struck by the grandness of wandlore, as Coakley conjured a cloud of slowly swirling golden smoke and walked Maggie through the mechanics of how a wand interacts with the wizard's mind and hand and how the spell exudes.


	11. A Group Lesson

The older his son got, the more Garrick Ollivander enjoyed his company and valued his insightful observations and opinions. The boy was bright — he was a quick study, he was creative, and he had inherited the dubiously advantageous trait of Garrick's fanatical dedication to his work.

Garrick found himself more and more frequently desiring to treat Todd like a partner rather than an apprentice, but this was an instinct he had to suppress. Unfortunately, Garrick often found himself having to suppress his fatherly instincts. Ollivander's had suffered at times in centuries past when Ollivanders had favoured their children over more skilled and qualified wandsmiths. History had proven that nepotism bred jealousy in the shop and led to substandard wands. Todd _would_ run the shop one day, but it would not be as a nineteen-year-old. As fiercely proud as Garrick was of Todd, it was critical to the health of the business that he not treat him any better than any of the other apprentices, and that meant refraining from placing Todd on the same level as the other high-ranking members of Ollivander's.

It was difficult. There were some days that Todd's professionalism and skill caused Garrick to forget that he was only a teenager.

However, as the two of them sat in Garrick's cramped, cluttered first-floor office — Garrick behind his desk, and Todd seated in front of him — Garrick couldn't help but be forcefully reminded of Todd's age. His incessant whinging today was beginning to give him a headache.

' _What do you mean you don't want me going to the pub anymore?_ ' Todd repeated, looking horrified. It was as if Garrick had told him he wanted him to stop eating for an extended period of time.

'We need to be careful right now. We need to be on our guard,' Garrick said wearily. 'I don't like the idea of you getting drunk and letting your guard down and talking about what's going on at the wandshop to whoever might overhear it.'

'I _am_ careful!'

Garrick felt a wave of irritation ripple through his veins. 'Interesting assessment. I didn't realise that careful people took evening strolls through Knockturn Alley.' When Garrick had learned from Florean Fortescue months after the fact that Todd had been in the Fenny Snake, his heart had stopped. What if Todd had been cursed, kidnapped or worse? Did the boy really not understand how the Death Eaters might attempt to break Garrick, to punish him for selling wands to Muggle-borns, by killing the person he cared for the most? It had been hard enough losing Elspeth to dragon pox eleven years ago. Garrick often forgot that the Wizarding War had begun in 1970, because the period of darkness, for him, seemed to begin in 1969, on the day his wife had died.

If anything, though, the Wizarding War had jolted Garrick from his depression. When the war began, attacks came with it, and he'd done everything he could to stay on his guard and to protect his only son from harm. Garrick regarded the fact that Todd had so far never been attacked with incredible relief.

But these days, Todd was infuriatingly reckless, in more ways than one. Garrick couldn't allow the boy to continue wandering tipsily around Diagon Alley, he simply couldn't. To make matters worse, Todd and John Watts had for the past couple of years taken an interest in brainstorming ideas of how Ollivander's could potentially thwart He Who Must Not Be Named. Todd sometimes even brashly suggested that they check the forearms of suspected Dark witches and wizards who came seeking repairs or replacement wands, an incredibly stupid, foolish suggestion that would have made Garrick laugh if the proposal didn't terrify him so completely.

Todd looked a bit ashamed after Garrick mentioned the Fenny Snake. 'Dad, that was _six_ _months_ ago. I admit that was a mistake, and I haven't gone back there since. But,' he laughed weakly, looking at his father as if he were a bit mad to suggest it, 'I can't stay out of the Leaky Cauldron. If I can't drink... what will I do with my spare time?' It appeared, to Garrick's annoyance, to be a genuinely honest question.

'You can do what you did before — you can read, you can play chess with me, you can take walks through Muggle London.'

Todd looked crestfallen, mouth slightly agape, shaking his head in disbelief.

Garrick rose from his chair and made his way to the door to exit his office. Todd followed him hesitantly.

'Well,' Todd said in a soft voice as they made their way down the corridor, 'if I can't go out drinking anymore, then that means I can sit in on this mysterious meeting of yours with Professor Dumbledore today, right? If you didn't think I could keep whatever top-secret information you're going to discuss to myself before, I certainly can now, right?'

'Absolutely not,' Garrick said shortly. While he actually would have quite liked to have Todd by his side at the meeting, Albus had stressed that as few people as possible should have knowledge of the plan involving Fawkes. It had been difficult enough convincing Albus to allow Haeyoun Kim and Jack Coakley in the meeting.

'Can you at least tell me what it's about?'

'No.'

Todd sighed, annoyed. 'When are you going to start letting me in on the secrets of this business?' he asked, still talking in a low voice. 'If, god forbid, something happens to you, I need to be prepared to —'

'If, god forbid, something were to happen to me, Jack or Haeyoun would be more than qualified to take my place.' Todd seemed to bristle at this a bit.

Suddenly, the classroom door behind them opened, and the two Ollivanders turned around to see Jack Coakley and Maggie emerge. Todd, as usual, seemed to have an absurdly heightened reaction to Miss Gibson's presence, backing away almost involuntarily. Garrick reflexively reached out and grabbed his son's arm. He was baffled by Todd's tendency to Apparate, sometimes even when Garrick was mid-conversation with him, whenever she entered a room. 'There's still something I'd like to speak to you about with Jack, Todd.'

For once, his son stayed put as Jack and Maggie approached.

'My apologies, Miss Gibson, for interrupting your lessons temporarily today,' Garrick said, smiling kindly at her. 'I'm afraid Jack's advice is too valuable for me to forego it in this instance.'

'Not a problem. You're not the only one asking to move things around,' Miss Gibson said, looking a bit apologetic. 'I'll be waitressing at a Muggle restaurant starting tomorrow, so Mr Coakley and I will be moving our lessons to the evening so I can work there during the day.'

'I'm happy tae accommodate her in any way she needs,' Jack said cheerfully. 'She's getting on quite well, Garrick. She seems tae have a natural knack for wandlore. She's progressing rapidly. Even more rapidly than you did, Todd, when you were first starting oot.'

A look of annoyance flickered over Todd's face. 'Well. I was eleven when I started out. So...'

'Aul the same. I believe I have an exceptionally promising apprentice here.'

'Todd has been inquiring, Jack — do you know if any assistance is needed in Shenzhen? To check in on the Chinese Fireball hatchlings that we've paid a group of specialists to raise?'

Jack raised his eyes at Todd, taking out his pipe. 'Want tae flee the country for the summer, lad?' he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching. 'Couldnae find any work tae dae for Ollivander's on Mars, or Neptune?'

'I could just do with a change of scenery for a bit, that's all,' Todd muttered. Garrick noticed that Todd and Miss Gibson _both_ appeared to be rather put out to be in each other's presence, each decidedly avoiding the other's gaze.

Jack lit his pipe with his wand, taking a few thoughtful puffs. 'No, I donnae think there's any reason tae see how they're getting on, no' yet. Maybe in a couple o' years, perhaps.'

Todd turned to Garrick, his arms crossed. 'So, you were willing to let me go to _China_ , but I'm not allowed to go to the local?'

This made Garrick smile a bit. 'There are far fewer Death Eaters in Shenzhen than there are in London.'

Todd sighed. 'Right. Brilliant. Well, anything else, Dad? I'd say I'm at your service, but no one much seems to be interested in any help I have to offer today.'

'I'll see you at the group lesson in a couple of hours, Todd.'

Todd scoffed. 'I don't need to go to that,' he said dismissively.

'Yes, you do. You're at the same level as Sana, and Sana will certainly be expected to be there. It's important that the more experienced apprentices work alongside the newer apprentices from time to time, that they bring their advanced knowledge to the lesson.'

'Well, if Maggie is the prodigy that everyone seems to think she is, I don't think she needs any help from me,' Todd said mulishly.

'The group lesson is at four o'clock, Todd. Attendance is mandatory.'

'Fine.' And with that, Todd turned on the spot and Disapparated.

'Delightful chap, isn't he?' Jack said to Maggie, who laughed a bit. 'Appears that the boy is in one of his moods again. That ought tae go over well during the group lesson, aye Garrick?'

He sighed wearily. 'I don't know what's gotten into him lately.'

'Well, hen, feel free to leave Ollivander's for a bit. You'll no' see me at the group lesson, Garrick and Brimer will be running that one. But I'll see you the morrow.'

'All right,' she said, looking a bit apprehensive.

'Albus will be arriving via Floo Powder,' Garrick said to Jack, 'so let's go up to the flat.'

* * *

Garrick poured some newly brewed tea from the teapot into several teacups as Jack and Haeyoun sat at the Ollivanders' small kitchen table, waiting for Albus and discussing whether it was a good idea to use additional feathers from Fawkes in future wands.

'I can't believe the question is even up for debate,' Haeyoun said, unusually sharp. 'Not a feather from that phoenix will be used in any more of our wands if I can help it.'

'Haeyoun,' Garrick said placatingly, 'let's ponder this carefully.'

'You cannot possibly be considering putting feathers from that creature into additional wands, Garrick,' she said in disbelief. 'Every week, we get word of more deaths, more destruction, caused by people wielding our wands. Now, you're faced with the choice of whether to prevent the rise of future Dark wizards, and you think we should ponder it?'

'A wizard is not made Dark by his wand,' Garrick said. 'You of all people should know that, Haeyoun.'

'Lord Voldemort has committed terrible acts with his yew wand,' she said, and Garrick winced at the name. 'He has performed magic never seen before. That is power I would not like to share with this world again, if I can help it.'

'I cannae believe Albus is even giving us the opportunity at all,' Jack said with mild surprise.

Garrick levitated three cups and saucers to the table, directing one each to Jack and Haeyoun. 'Albus has actually been rather insistent on it. He believes it _could_ help in the war against You-Know-Who.'

'Oh.' Jack looked surprised. He pondered this for a while, then shrugged. 'Well that settles it, then. If Dumbledore thinks it'll help, we should dae it.'

'Dumbledore is not infallible, Jack,' she said. 'This is our field of expertise, not his.'

'Well... defeating Dark wizards is Dumbledore's field of expertise.'

Suddenly, there was a rumble from the fireplace, and the three of them looked over to see the very wizard they were discussing emerge into the Ollivanders' living room, which, in the small flat, was not separated from the kitchen by any wall. He arrived with an enormous phoenix sitting atop his shoulder.

'Garrick. Haeyoun. Jack,' Dumbledore said pleasantly as he cleaned the small amount of soot off his robes with a quick sweep of his wand. 'Good to see all of you.'

'Afternoon, Albus,' Garrick said, smiling. 'Care for tea?'

'Please.'

'Take a seat.'

'I prefer to stand, thank you.'

'Easier to appear authoritative over Ollivander's if you tower over us all?' Haeyoun asked darkly, rising from her own chair. She was as tall as Dumbledore himself, and she met his gaze fiercely.

'Actually, it has far more to do with the awkwardness a chair poses when one has a phoenix perched upon him,' Dumbledore said, smiling. 'The last thing I'm seeking to do is to offend, Haeyoun.' He swept a chair out from the table and allowed the phoenix to perch at the top of the chair as Dumbledore took a seat. Bernard, the Ollivanders' owl, hooted nervously, regarding the phoenix with apprehension.

'It's my understanding,' Dumbledore said, addressing Haeyoun, who remained standing, 'that you are the primary person I must convince if I'm to have Ollivander's use another of Fawkes' feathers.'

'Indeed,' Haeyoun said, regarding Dumbledore with deep scepticism.

'The only domesticated phoenix in the world,' Jack murmured, regarding the phoenix in awe. 'He really is beautiful, Dumbledore.'

'And clearly,' Haeyoun said, 'that beast possesses a power that can cause great destruction in the world.'

'I'm surprised to hear that you of all people, Haeyoun, subscribe to the myth that some wizards are strong and others are weak, that some are good and others are corrupted, simply because of the contents of their wands,' Dumbledore said mildly, taking out his own and examining it. Garrick regarded Dumbledore's fascinating-looking wand, made of elder wood, with interest out of the corner of his eye as he set a cup and saucer in front of him. He had often asked Dumbledore questions about his wand — curiously, he did not use the Ollivander's one that Garrick's grandfather had helped Albus pick out when he was a child — but Dumbledore had always responded with the vagueness and the secrecy that he did on so many other topics. 'A wizard is what he makes of himself,' Dumbledore said.

Garrick wasn't so sure this was true, that the contents of a wizard's wand were irrelevant. Indeed, if they were to use more feathers from this bird, Garrick would certainly expect great things of the witches and wizards that those wands chose.

'If having a feather from this particular phoenix doesn't _matter_ ,' Haeyoun said, her eyes piercing Albus's, 'then why do you _care_?'

'I believe it could be useful, to have a witch or wizard in the world owning a wand with a twin to Voldemort's core,' Dumbledore said. 'If Priori Incantatem did occur, it might be beneficial in a duel against him.'

'So Voldemort would simply have a Death Eater kill that witch or wizard instead,' Haeyoun said dismissively. 'It certainly wouldn't lead to Voldemort's defeat.'

' _Will you stop saying the name?_ ' Garrick said, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

'There is deep magic in Fawkes, a fact that Garrick will attest to,' Dumbledore said. For the first time in the conversation, Garrick detected a mild note of steel in his voice; Albus was not intending to leave today without accomplishing this. 'I believe the wizarding world would benefit from having more witches and wizards wielding wands that carry his feather.'

Haeyoun was silent for a while. She stood with her arms crossed, looking at Dumbledore.

'The two of you —' she said, addressing Garrick and Jack, 'where do you stand on this?'

'As I've said, I trust Dumbledore,' Jack said simply. 'I'd be willing tae use more feathers from Fawkes.'

'I support this plan as well,' Garrick said. 'And, additionally — it's a minor thing to consider, but a reality all the same — phoenixes _are_ incredibly rare. I'm always eager to bolster the number of phoenix-feather wands in the shop.'

Haeyoun sighed. She still looked apprehensive.

' _One_ feather,' she said, holding up a finger at Dumbledore. 'Just one. And I would like to be the one who crafts the wand.'

'Thank you, Haeyoun,' he said, inclining his head. 'I would honoured if you did. Garrick, you'll write to me the moment it's sold?'

'Of course. I don't think I could keep from sharing it with you even if you wanted me to.'

'Well, now that that's settled,' Jack said slowly, 'Albus, can you tell us if the Order of the Phoenix has gathered any new information about, er —' he glanced at Garrick '— _You-Know-Who's_ interest in Ollivander's?'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Yes, I'm afraid his focus is beginning to turn toward this wand shop again.'

Garrick swallowed. 'The wand _shop_?' he asked hoarsely. 'Or the people who work here?'

'It is one and the same, I'm afraid,' Dumbledore said darkly. 'Voldemort believes — correctly, perhaps — that if he can gain control over Ollivander's, he will have control over all convention of who becomes a wizard and who does not.'

'Do you believe that another attack is inevitable?' Garrick said softly, lacing his fingers together on the table.

Dumbledore thought quietly for a bit. 'Not inevitable, perhaps. You've installed the Thief's Downfall at the front door, yes?'

'Enchanted it myself,' Jack said proudly.

'Good. That protects against Death Eaters using Polyjuice Potion to masquerade as benign customers, and I believe it protects the Ollivander's crew from the Imperius Curse as well.'

'It protects us from Animagi eavesdroppers also,' Haeyoun added.

'Yes. Though, for the Thief's Downfall to be entirely effective, you may want to enchant the entire building with anti-Apparition and barricading charms.'

In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, Garrick smiled to himself. Todd would not be happy to learn that he wouldn't be able to Disapparate from inside Ollivander's much longer.

'You may also want tae disconnect the fireplace from the Floo Network as well,' Jack said, jerking his head toward the living room.

Garrick sighed. 'We'll do all of this. But none of it is enough.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'I'll speak with the Order about what else can be done.'

The four of them sipped their tea in silence for several minutes after that, pondering the war and any futile attempts they could possibly make to try to insulate the wandshop from it.

'Well, I must be off,' Dumbledore said finally, rising from his seat. 'Do you still prefer to procure the feather from Fawkes during this group lesson of yours?'

'If you don't mind putting him in our care for a bit, Albus,' Garrick said. 'You've given so much help to Ollivander's as it is, I hate to inconvenience you further.'

'Not an inconvenience at all,' Dumbledore said, looking down happily at his phoenix, which peered back up at him. 'Fawkes has a fondness for students that, as an educator, I find quite inspiring.'

'But... you're leaving now?' Haeyoun asked, puzzled. 'How will we return him to you?'

'Fawkes will find his way home,' Dumbledore said.

'His home... at Hogwarts?' Jack asked, dubiously. 'Five hundred miles from here?'

'Yes,' Dumbledore said simply, walking toward the fireplace. He opened the chipped sugar bowl atop the Ollivanders' mantelpiece and took a pinch of Floo Powder. 'Haeyoun, if it's not too much trouble, I would be highly indebted to you if you kept me informed of your crafting plans. I'm particularly interested in the wand wood you choose.'

'I'll write to you if I find the time, Albus,' Haeyoun said with an arched eyebrow.

'Of course,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'Might I suggest holly?' And with that, he threw the powder into the grate and said in clear voice, 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!' and disappeared into the fire.

Haeyoun frowned at the now empty fireplace. 'Holly is actually quite a good idea,' she grumbled.

Garrick nodded thoughtfully. 'The plant of death and rebirth.'

'Of prophecy,' Jack murmured.

'Said to have the ability to enhance magic,' Garrick said.

'And the wood has the directed balance and vigour to fight, if the cause is just,' she said, a hand on her lips, lost in thought.

* * *

Todd's mood appeared to have not improved, Garrick noticed with a sigh as he brought Fawkes downstairs into the workshop a bit later.

Despite their age difference, Miss Gibson appeared to be getting on rather well with Will Kerscher, Sana Iqbal — wait, Sana Dobson, Garrick was still forgetting to call her Mrs Dobson from time to time, that was rather new — and Nate Dobson. The four of them were talking animatedly at a workshop table as Todd watched them across the room, scowling, from a different table. Garrick did the maths in his head. Maggie was 17, obviously. Todd was 19. Will should be... 23 by now? Sana was two years ahead of Will, so that would put her at 25. And Nate should be about 28. It was odd to no longer think of Mr Dobson as an apprentice, even though he'd been a Beast Hunter for a couple of years now.

Personally, to Garrick, they were all still children, in many ways, albeit extremely bright and talented ones.

Kurt Brimer — muscular, solid and stocky — was staring out a window next to a tall golden stand where he planned to place the phoenix. Garrick struggled to remember how old Mr Brimer might be. Thirty? Thirty-five? So young for a head Beast Hunter, but he had risen to the occasion spectacularly after Abel's retirement.

'My god,' breathed Sana, who was the first to glimpse the scarlet phoenix as Garrick descended from the spiral staircase. 'Mr Ollivander... it's gorgeous.'

Everyone turned around. Several people got to their feet in the presence of the phoenix.

'Mr Brimer, let's move this stand to the centre of the room, shall we?' Garrick said, sweeping several empty tables out of the way with his wand. 'I'd like everyone to get as best a view as possible of this animal.'

Kurt Brimer did as he was instructed. All the apprentices were now standing. Mr Dobson took his place alongside Mr Brimer.

'Circle round, circle round, everyone,' Garrick said. The apprentices formed a circle around the stand, and Garrick moved Fawkes carefully from his arm to the golden perch.

There was a point Garrick wanted to illustrate, and his knee-jerk reaction was to call on Todd to do so. But this would've been unfair, and so he turned to Will.

'Mr Kerschner,' Garrick said, beginning to pace in an outer circle around the apprentices, 'how many phoenix hunts have you been on?'

'Ten, sir.'

'And how many unicorn hunts have you been on?'

'Ah... about the same number? Maybe a bit more?'

'And on these phoenix hunts... how often have you encountered a phoenix?'

'Not once, sir.'

'And how often have you encountered a unicorn?'

'Every time.'

'Interesting. And why do you think that is?'

'No idea... I would not be so impertinent as to point out that _Nate_ has always led the phoenix hunts I've been on.'

Mr Dobson was gritting his teeth, still standing by the window. Mr Brimer put a hand on his shoulder. He appeared to be trying not to smile.

'Mr Dobson's abilities as a phoenix hunter are quite exceptional, I assure you,' Garrick said. 'No, you see — a phoenix sighting is a rare occurrence, even for a member of our crew. It lives on mountain peaks, and, generally, a person only glimpses a phoenix when a phoenix has decided that it is willing to allow someone to glimpse it. Tell me, are there phoenix eggs?'

'No,' Todd said, cutting in. 'No one knows how they first came to be. A phoenix bursts into flame at the end of one of its many life cycles, then emerges as a chick from the ashes. Which makes them particularly hard to track, because there are no phoenix nests.'

Garrick continued to pace around the apprentices.

'Miss Iq — er, Mrs Dobson. What sort of qualities does a phoenix feather bring to a wand?'

'A great range of magic,' she said. 'They're powerful, though they may not show it right away. They're also the hardest to tame, and their allegiance is usually hard won. They can be troublesome sometimes.'

'I wouldn't say that they're _troublesome_ ,' Todd said, frowning.

Sana raised her eyebrows. 'Phoenix feather wands have been known to act of their own accord at times. You wouldn't call that troublesome?'

Todd shrugged. 'The rare instances where they do that... it's to protect their owners. It's admirable.'

'Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to choosing a potential owner, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world,' Garrick continued. 'Mrs Dobson — can you show us where it's best to remove a feather from a phoenix, for wand crafting purposes?'

Sana moved forward hesitantly. 'Can I touch him?' she asked softly.

'Yes, I believe he won't mind. Just move cautiously. Respectfully.'

With just the tip of her finger, she grazed a spot close to the phoenix's heart. 'There,' she whispered.

Todd twitched and made a noise in his throat that Garrick had heard many times before. 'Not quite,' Todd said. He moved forward, pointing with just his pinky. 'Here,' he said, pointing at the spot right at the phoenix's heart. Fawkes looked down where the two apprentices had pointed.

'It's the same thing, Todd,' Sana said. There was a note of annoyance in her voice.

'Well... no, it's not.'

'Mrs Dobson's choice would still work well, Todd,' Garrick said. 'It would lend itself to a wand that I think would be quiet punchy.'

A muscle worked in Todd's jaw.

'Todd, tell me,' Garrick said, continuing to pace, 'do you believe this phoenix is from Egypt, China, or India?'

Todd frowned, looking a bit annoyed at Garrick. He had given his son the hardest question. The boy moved closer to Fawkes, examining him closely without touching him. He looked at the tail feathers, the talons, the beak.

'Erm,' Todd said, awkwardly addressing the phoenix, 'can — can I see your wingspan, please?'

Fawkes unfolded his enormous wings swiftly with a rustle of feathers, and Todd stumbled back a bit.

'Merlin's beard,' Kurt murmured.

'Definitely China,' Todd said confidently.

'Correct,' Garrick clipped. Todd looked pleased with himself. 'Tell us why that is.'

'The tremendous wingspan. I've seen a couple of phoenixes on hunts in Egypt years ago, and their wingspans weren't anywhere near as large as this.'

'That's correct. And how do you know it's not from India?'

'Because Indian phoenixes have black feet. Black talons, I mean. This one has gold talons.'

'Mr Brimer, can you show us how you would remove the feather?'

Kurt strode forward.

'The incantation for the numbing charm is _Quiescis Dolor_ ,' Kurt said, performing the spell as he spoke, pointing his wand at Fawkes' heart to numb the bird's skin slightly. 'I also prefer to use a spell to loosen the feather a bit as well — _Extricare_ — and, then, like so, you pluck.' To Garrick's immense satisfaction, Kurt removed the feather cleanly from the bird with nary a squawk from Fawkes, and held the perfectly intact, medium-sized feather — so brilliantly scarlet that it made the color in his and Nate's robes look dull — up for all to see before placing it in a small glass bottle and stoppering it with a cork.

'So, just to clarify — I _am_ right,' Todd cut in impertinently. 'You chose the location that _I_ pointed out, not the one that Sana pointed out.'

'Er, well, they were nearly the same location,' Kurt said, a bit baffled.

'But, Sana, I assume you _thought_ you were gesturing in front of the heart, right?' Todd said, continuing to press the issue. 'It's the best location for the most powerful wands. But you were slightly off.'

Sana now looked as annoyed as Todd had earlier today.

'Todd,' Nate said testily, 'how about you let the people who are running the group lesson handle the group lesson?'

'Well, what's the _point_ of having a group lesson if none of us point out when someone's incorrect?' Todd said, just as testily. 'Or would you prefer to let your wife go on thinking that she's right, rather than suffer the consequences of telling her that she's wrong?'

'That's enough,' Garrick said sharply to Todd. 'Yes, Todd, Mr Brimer chose the location you pointed out — the centre of the heart.' Todd looked a bit smug. 'Yes, the area Mrs Dobson pointed out was the left corner the heart. But if I've taught you anything, it's that wandlore is more art than science, and if you think that you should always take materials from the same area of a beast each time — that you simply need to follow the diagrams in your textbooks as if this is an assembly line — I think you'll find that your wands will be sorely lacking in personality.'

Todd's smirk disappeared, to be replaced with that same indignant look Garrick had been staring at for most of the day.

'Shall I... procure any more feathers, Mr Ollivander?' Kurt asked hesitantly. 'I'm more than willing to take one from the area that Sana pointed out. Like you said, a feather from that area would make for a compelling wand as well.'

'No,' Garrick said shortly, holding up a hand. 'We'll only be using one feather from this phoenix.'

'Right. Well, then. I, er, I haven't really got anything else to add...'

'That concludes the group lesson, everyone,' Garrick clipped. 'I'll see you all tomorrow.'

'Good — er — good work, everyone, today,' Kurt said awkwardly.

'I'm starving, Sana,' Nate said, who was glaring at Todd despite the fact that he was addressing his wife. 'Let's grab supper at one of the cafés in Diagon Alley. Kerschner? Gibson? Want to join us?'

Mr Kerschner, a smile playing on his face, raised his eyebrows at Miss Gibson. 'I don't think it's a good idea to turn him down, do you?'

'Erm... I could eat,' she said nervously.

'Brilliant,' Nate growled, aggressively ignoring Todd as he spoke. 'Let's go, then.'

He grabbed Mrs Dobson's hand — she looked a bit unhappy, Garrick noticed — and the four of them descended the spiral staircase. Todd was scowling at the ground. He seemed to listen to the bell downstairs jingle as they opened the door, then closed it with a snap. Todd moved slowly to the window. He watched the four of them make their way down Diagon Alley, walking away from Ollivander's, their robes billowing out behind them.

'I hate to say it, mate, but that's your own fault. You know it is,' Kurt said, looking at Todd. Todd said nothing, still scowling as he watched the two witches and two wizards walk together.

'Well I s'pose I'll go _read_ now,' Todd snarled suddenly as he walked past his father and made his way to the stairs, stomping up the spiral staircase into the flat above them.

Kurt and Garrick lingered in the workshop. Garrick frowned as he watched his son go. Kurt turned back toward Fawkes, who had peacefully watched this moment unfold.

'Mr Ollivander,' Kurt said quietly, observing the bird carefully, 'where in the world did you get this phoenix? It's unheard of, for wizards to transport them, to lead them anywhere. They've never successfully been domesticated, except... well, except in only one instance, I believe.'

Garrick stayed silent.

'It's Dumbledore's phoenix, isn't it? It's got to be.'

Garrick sighed. Kurt sounded certain, whether or not he confirmed it for him. 'It is.'

Kurt regarded the bird apprehensively. 'Are you sure you want to use this feather?'

'Positive.'

'All right,' Kurt said, still regarding the phoenix with a mixture of fear and awe. 'Well, you are the boss. So, one last question, a practical one — how are we going to get this bird back to Dumbledore? He's not here right now, right?'

Garrick furrowed his brow. 'Albus didn't make that clear. He simply said Fawkes could find his way home.'

Suddenly, the bird unfurled its wings again, flapping them heavily. It rose into the air, circling around the workshop, its long tail feathers glinting in the light as the wandsmith and the Beast Hunter watched it in awe. It sang three eerie notes before there was a flash of fire, and the phoenix was gone.

'Well,' Kurt said, looking slightly dumbfounded as he turned to Garrick, 'that's that sorted, then.'

* * *

Maggie was still thinking about the phoenix and the group lesson as she sat with Nate, Sana and Will, eating beef and potato pasties as they sat outside under a colourful umbrella.

'Don't let him get to you, love,' Nate said softly to Sana, who still looked a bit miserable as she ate. 'Todd can be a fucking arsehole when he wants to be. We all know it.'

'It doesn't bother me that he was right, and that I was wrong,' she said glumly. 'I just wish he weren't so _aggressive_ about it. He seems to take so much pleasure in being cleverer than me.'

'I _was_ going to clarify the location of the heart for everyone,' Nate said, 'but Todd cut in before I could even say anything!'

'You know that when he gets like that, no one is safe,' Will said consolingly to Sana. 'When Todd Ollivander is determined to impress Daddy, he wants you to stay the bloody hell out of his way. And,' he added brightly, 'as long as we've got Maggie by our side, we can keep Todd away whenever he's in one of his moods now.'

'You _are_ excellent Todd Ollivander-repellant, Maggie,' Nate said, grinning. 'Last week, he nearly tripped over his robes trying to Disapparate from the workshop when he heard your voice coming up the stairs.'

'What happened between the two of you, anyway?' Sana asked.

Maggie sighed. 'Well, there were two different incidents. One of them happened a year ago, at the Leaky Cauldron, and the other happened two weeks ago, at Flourish and Blotts.'

The three of them leaned in, interested.

'Can we talk about _anything_ else?' Maggie pleaded.

Will shook his head, grinning.

She sighed again. 'All right. Well, at King's Cross a year ago, Todd saw when my boyfriend, Robbie Ellerby, asked me out for the first time.'

'Robbie Ellerby?' Nate asked. 'Is he related to Robert Ellerby, the broomstick-maker?'

'Yeah, his dad is the Ellerby of Ellerby and Spudmore Broomstick Co.,' Maggie said. 'Robbie is actually Robert Ellerby Jr.' She gazed miserably at her plate. 'That's the thing. I think Todd thinks I just flirt with the sons of famous wizards to get things. He essentially said so at the Leaky Cauldron a year ago.'

'It's not surprising Todd would think that,' Sana said sagely. 'His last girlfriend likely just dated him because she fancied the idea of dating a wizard from a famous family. She would always introduce him as "my boyfriend, Todd _Ollivander_." She'd always make him take her out to these posh restaurants in the wizarding boroughs of Rome and Paris just to see the maitre d's eyebrows shoot up when they said the reservation was under Ollivander. But, she eventually realised that Ollivander's is hated by a lot of Dark wizards, and it wasn't the most advantageous business to be associated with. So she left him high and dry.'

'That's pretty much the only way Todd could land someone like Deirdre Fortescue,' Nate said.

Sana raised her eyebrows. '"Someone like Deirdre Fortescue"? What's that supposed to mean?'

'Well, she's — she's — I mean, objectively speaking...' Nate said, flinching a bit under Sana's raised eyebrows.

'Todd's gotten rather handsome over these past couple of years, you know,' Sana said mildly.

'What!'

'Doesn't feel so good, does it?' Sana said, smirking.

'Well that gives some context to what he said in the second incident somewhat, then,' Maggie said glumly. 'Two weeks ago, I was in Flourish and Blotts when I heard Todd and his friend Derek talking in the shelves. I hadn't even realised they were there until I heard my name, and they _definitely_ didn't realise I was there. Todd was going on and on in this sarcastic voice about how "It must be _so great_ to be a pretty girl. Everyone loves you, and you always get what you want." He was telling his friend that he was sick of hearing everyone talk about me and how well I'm doing. I tried to get out of the bookshop without being seen, but then he turned the corner and bumped into me on my way out.'

'What happened then?'

'He turned bright red. He looked mortified,' Maggie said. 'Not as mortified as I was, of course. He looked like he was going to say something to me, but then he just turned on the spot and Disapparated. He hasn't been keen on being around me since.'

Nate and Will were chortling, but Sana looked at Maggie sympathetically.

'Todd really needs to get over his insecurities before he ruins morale in the shop for every single apprentice,' Sana said.

'And why is he so insecure, anyway?' Will said. 'We all know he's brilliant. Does he really need to reaffirm his abilities by putting us down all the time?'

'It's not surprising to me Todd said all that rubbish while he was around Derek Malkin. Malkin's a bloody tosser,' Nate said, his mouth full. 'All that ridiculous swagger and fake charm — it's nauseating. And for as much time as Malkin spends in the Muggle world, I don't think he has much respect at all for Muggles. And Todd follows the bloke around like a puppy dog, hoping to reap some of the benefits of his popularity.'

'I wouldn't say that's exactly accurate,' Sana said mildly.

'Course it's accurate. Oh, and their top hats! Their bloody top hats! Since they left Hogwarts, Todd and Derek have both taken to wearing these mid-sized blue top hats around town, and every time I see the two of them, I just want to knock the bloody things off both their heads. Posh twats.'

' _Lots_ of wizards in Diagon Alley wear top hats,' Sana said.

'Yes — and they're all twats. I dunno, in times like these, there's something insidious about wearing classical wizard clothing and not knowing how to dress like a Muggle.'

'Derek's one thing, but I don't think Todd has any sort of rubbish blood-purity beliefs,' Sana said dubiously. 'He and Watts are always scheming together about ways Ollivander's can derail You-Know-Who. Mr Ollivander never goes for any of it, of course. He always just wants to keep his head down and make sure Ollivander's gets through this war intact.'

'I dunno if Todd is _completely_ devoid of rubbish blood-purity beliefs,' Maggie grumbled. 'When I wore Muggle clothes to my interview the first time around, he acted like it was the most absurd thing he'd even seen, to wear Muggle clothes to an interview at the wandshop.'

Will grinned. 'Well, there's a lot of things Todd doesn't understand about Muggle clothes. Whenever he dresses like a Muggle, he always looks like he's about to start dancing the Charleston at any moment.'

The four of them all cracked up laughing, and the lanterns in the street magically lighted suddenly as dusk began to descend on Diagon Alley.


	12. Duelling Lessons

'So you're born and raised in the East End of London, hen?' Mr Coakley asked, as Maggie worked on a block of willow tree wood in the sunlit back room of Ollivander's, attempting to shape it into some semblance of a practise wand.

She nodded. 'I grew up in a council estate in Bethnal Green.'

He cocked his head. 'Council estate? What does that mean?'

'Muggle government housing.'

'Ah, of course.' He still looked a bit befuddled — which, honestly, was a bit of a relief to Maggie. 'But you've nae accent? Nae Cockney accent?'

She smiled as she worked to carve the block of wood with her wand. 'Yeah. I sort of... made an effort to get rid of it. And, honestly, it sort of slipped away naturally after years at Hogwarts. Years away from London and Londoners. But obviously, you didn't lose your Glaswegian accent, when you went to Hogwarts?'

'In my humble opinion, there's nae reason tae be ashamed of where you're fae,' he said proudly. 'Honestly, though, it didnae hurt that I went tae Hogwarts with loads of my childhood friends fae Glasgow, and that's where I settled with my wife, after Hogwarts.'

'Is there a wizarding neighbourhood in Glasgow?'

'No' entirely. There are a good deal of wizarding families sprinkled in homes along the River Clyde, though, and that's where I grew up, and where Betty and I live the noo.'

'Well, my accent's not completely gone,' Maggie said as she sought to carve the wand in the spiral shape that Mr Coakley had taught her. 'It still comes out sometimes when I'm angry, or giddy. Or at Quidditch matches sometimes,' she said, smiling. 'How's this?' she said, holding up a very roughly formed wand-half. 'Where am I supposed to go from here exactly, to get it to be more... you know... sleek? How do I start to make it look right?'

'That's quite a long explanation, and, honestly, I'm no' sure we have the time tae get intae that,' Mr Coakley said, checking his pocketwatch.

'We don't? But... we have hours still.'

'Aye. But I thought the day would be as good as any tae begin your duelling lessons.'

Maggie blinked. 'Duelling lessons?'

'Aye. It's a bit of an Ollivander's tradition, teaching the apprentices how tae duel. It's an under-appreciated pastime these days. Professional duelling used tae be as popular as Quidditch a generation or so ago, but Hogwarts doesnnae teach it like they used tae, and it's no wonder duelling's dropped off. Shame, really. I'm far partial myself tae watching a couple of skilled wizards face each other with only their wits and their wands than see a bunch of duffers bumble around with Quaffles and Bludgers on brooms. Here at Ollivander's, it's still quite a popular way for us tae pass the time. And under my tutelage, I think you could give a few apprentices a run for their money. And...' he continued innocently, 'you could possibly help me win back some... lost earnings over the years.'

' _I_ see,' Maggie said, grinning. 'The crew bets on the duels. You miss having your own horse in the race?'

'I cannae lose any more Galleons betting against Todd, Maggie!' Mr Coakley exclaimed, waving his pipe around, and Maggie laughed. 'I cannae bear tae root for the boy, but the specky bastard's too good! And yes, you're no' wrong,' he said mildly, inserting his pipe back into his mouth. 'There's nae thrill in betting on someone you havenae trained yerself.'

'Well, that does sound brilliant, but it must be a bit time-consuming, isn't it?' Maggie said sceptically. 'My priority right now is becoming a wandsmith, not learning how to duel.'

Mr Coakley didn't respond right away. He seemed to be weighing something while he smoked. Finally, he said, 'There are practical aspects as well tae keeping up the duelling tradition at Ollivander's. Especially these days. As I said, Defence Against the Dark Arts isnnae what it used tae be at Hogwarts. And Ollivander's is… a major institution in the wizarding world. Hogwarts decides who the people are who are fit tae be witches and wizards, but we decide who gets a wand. And that can make us a target.'

'For Death Eaters,' Maggie said, her heartbeat quickening.

'Aye,' Mr Coakley said grimly. 'And, Maggie… we've spoken about this before, but I want tae make sure you understand. I donnae let Lord Voldemort and his minions affect who I choose as my apprentice. But, that being said, Death Eaters donnae like Muggle-borns —'

'I've noticed.'

'— and they really willnae like a Muggle-born who is training tae one day craft the wands of future witches and wizards.' Coakley paused. 'So I must teach you tae protect yerself. All the apprentices have tae learn, but for you… for you, it's especially important.'

Maggie nodded. She had felt some of the blood drain from her face while Mr Coakley explained this to her. 'Is this why you and Mr Ollivander placed the Thief's Downfall at the front door? And why we can no longer Apparate in and out of the shop? Is it because I've been brought on? Am I putting Ollivander's in danger?'

'We are far more of a threat tae Death Eaters than any of them are tae us,' Mr Coakley said gently. 'And I intend tae train you tae be just as much of a threat. And,' he said leaning back in his chair, 'if that happens tae result in me winning back a few Galleons from Watts, then so be it.'

* * *

'A notice that using the word "duel" can be confusing tae Muggle-borns,' Mr Coakley said, now that the two of them were on their feet, facing each other in the sunlit room. 'It seems tae make you think that the battle happens here,' Coakley said, waving his hand between the space between them. 'But a skilled wizard knows that the battle happens here,' he said, opening his arms and gesturing to the entire room.

'I'll be teaching you several useful jinxes in the future,' he continued, 'but, honestly, the jinxes you use are no' that important. What's important is developing a clever, swift, second-nature response tae danger — utilizing Shield Charms, Disarming Charms, ways tae circumvent Disarming Charms, and Apparition.'

'Apparition?' Maggie said, confused.

'Aye. Being able tae flee from an attacker before they manage tae disarm you is by far the best defensive tactic I can teach you.'

Maggie nodded.

'Additionally, Apparating tae different locations within the same room is also a highly useful tactic during a duel. So, tae give you a sense of how you utilize these tactics, and,' he said, chuckling a bit, 'also just because I like tae have a bit o' fun, let's have several duelling demonstrations the noo, and then I'll show you afterward how you could have prevented me winning.'

'All right,' Maggie said apprehensively.

'I hope Hogwarts has at least taught you the basics of duelling, no? You begin with a bow,' he said, folding his body toward Maggie, and she did the same, 'and then the countdown begins. So, are you ready then?'

'Er —'

'One. Two. Three!' he said as Maggie cried, ' _Protego!_ ' but Mr Coakley was much too fast, and her wand flew out of her hand instantly before she finished uttering the charm.

'Non-verbal spells, Maggie, that's key,' Mr Coakley said, as he tossed her wand back to her. 'Speaking takes far too long, and gies your opponent far too much warning of what you're dain.

'Noo, again,' he continued. 'On the count of three. One. Two. Three!'

 _Expelliarmus!_ Maggie thought desperately, but Coakley disappeared from the spot where he was standing. Her wand flew up and over her head, and Mr Coakley, who was now standing behind her, caught it with a grin.

'Again!' he said, tossing it back to her. 'One. Two. Three!'

Maggie, desperately trying to come up with some semblance of a duelling strategy, turned on the spot and Apparated to a corner of the room behind Mr Coakley. But no sooner had she reappeared when she was struck by a hex from Mr Coakley.

She was knocked over, and though it hadn't been that hard of a blow, Maggie was as disoriented as if she'd been hit in the head by a Bludger. She struggled to get up, stumbling a bit on her first attempt.

'Apologies, darlin',' Mr Coakley said, a bit sheepishly, crouching down and tapping her temple lightly with his wand. Her head cleared a bit suddenly. 'The training takes over sometimes. I hit you with a mild Confundus Charm. I promise I'll gie you the chance tae use it on me as well, at some point. _Confundo_ is one of the best simple hexes tae use on a duelling opponent, because it drastically hinders their ability tae defend and attack, giving you the moment you need tae either attack or tae get away.'

'How did you know where I was going to Apparate to?' she said, taking his offered hand as he helped her to her feet. 'You hit me the moment I got there.'

'You tell me,' Coakley said, smiling. 'What was your giveaway?'

'Ah.' Maggie nodded wearily, understanding. 'I looked there first, didn't I, before I moved to Disapparate?'

'Exactly. All I needed tae dae was follow your eyes. You cannae look tae where you want tae Apparate. Your opponent can anticipate your next location when you dae. Are you all right tae continue?' he asked tentatively.

'Yes,' Maggie said determinedly, squaring her shoulders. This was a bit overwhelming, but it was also sort of fun. Duelling with Mr Coakley was a challenge, a puzzle, and Mr Coakley was walking her through each problem as she encountered it.

'Right. Try tae disarm me. I promise I'll no' Apparate this time,' he said, raising his wand and grinning.

'OK.' Maggie arched an eyebrow and smiled. She got the sense that he was about to teach her another trick at her expense.

'One. Two. Three!'

Maggie disarmed Mr Coakley non-verbally, and his wand shot out of his hand before Maggie watched him do something that had never occurred to her to attempt before, but that now seemed painfully obvious. As soon as his wand slipped out of his hand, Mr Coakley leapt forward and snatched it back out of the air, halting its path to Maggie. In her shock, she didn't move to cast a Shield Charm as Mr Coakley twisted his wand toward her, and her body seized up as she fell backwards, unable to break her fall.

' _Molliare_!' he cried, and her fall was slowed significantly. She drifted slowly to the ground as if in slow motion. He swept toward her, nullifying his Full-Body Bind hex, and helped her up again. 'Noo, that trick takes a bit o' practise,' he said, grinning. 'A trained duellist is always prepared tae have his wand fly oot his hand at any moment. That means leaning forward a bit and being prepared tae snatch it back. It requires exceptionally quick reflexes, though, and we'll need tae work tae get you tae that point.

'But rather than focusing on that for the rest of the day's lesson, there's something else I'd like tae drill wi' ye,' Mr Coakley said, his smile fading. 'Another reason that Apparition is a crucial duelling tactic is because the Killing Curse is unblockable. So the only way tae protect yersel' is tae flee.

'I'd like tae end this lesson the day on the — er — _cheerful_ note o' me shouting "Avada" at you, while you practise Apparating away fae the room on the first syllable,' he continued. 'The Killing Curse is a favourite of You-Know-Who's and his Death Eaters, as I'm sure you know, and I'd like tae instill that knee-jerk reaction in you as soon as possible.'

'All right... Will I be expected to shout it at you, as well?'

Mr Coakley chuckled. 'No, I find it's fair the best if the apprentices donnae shout Killing Curses at their teachers. You're bound tae get annoyed with me occasionally, darlin', and I'd rather no' gie you the opportunity to, er, _accidentally_ say the whole curse,' he said with a grin.


	13. Wand Sales

It was the same every summer.

As a wave of parents accompanying their eleven-year-olds and the occasional ten-year-old slowly flooded the shop, Todd's dad was often busy in June and July, and then August, bloody August would hit and he wouldn't leave the first floor from dawn till dusk due to how busy things were. And Mr Ollivander, rather than let Todd work on his vine wood wand, still insisted on having Todd with him in the shop, helping him.

Todd would have been fine with this if his father ever actually attempted to explain the reasoning behind which wands he picked for the soon-to-be First Years. But Mr Ollivander was often so busy that he simply used Todd as a gopher.

'Todd, let's try 1352's blackthorn and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, and 1923's maple and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, shall we?'

'Er, sure.'

'They should both be quite far down, and off to the right —'

'I know where they are. Dad, this is baffling, why are you picking these? I would've thought ebony and phoenix feather would've been best.'

'Ebony and phoenix feather?' his father said, laughing. 'Certainly not Todd, certainly not.'

'But why —'

'Hurry Todd, let's not keep our customers waiting!'

Todd sighed and snatched the two wands off the shelves. He opened the boxes as he walked toward the tiny witch, smiling at her apprehensive face. He crouched down so he was at her level.

'Let's try this one, shall we?' he said kindly.

The small girl had gotten somewhat used to the drill, though she still looked dubious as she pulled the wand out of the box and waved it around. Todd's dad snatched it out of her hand in half a second, and Todd offered her the second box now. She was Muggle-born, and her parents looked even more baffled than their daughter did as they stood behind her.

'How will you know when it's the right one?' her father asked, peering curiously around the shop.

'You'll know,' the two Ollivanders said simply.

The second wand didn't take either, and Todd repackaged the two wands and walked back toward the shelves, where his father was already pulling down new boxes.

'Try this one,' Mr Ollivander said, handing a wand box to Todd, and Todd returned to the family of three.

'Holly and unicorn hair, ten inches. Springy,' Todd said, reading the careful calligraphy on the side of the box while he opened it. And before the girl even touched the wand, Todd could sense that his dad had nailed it.

She grasped it, and Todd felt goosebumps rise up on his arms as the energy from the wand began to crackle. The girl moved her wand in an arc above her head, and there were gasps from her parents and applause from Todd's father as a shower of periwinkle sparks rained down on her. Todd grinned at the astonished look on her face.

'I think that's the one, wouldn't you say?'

She nodded, mouth agape. He held his hand out for the wand, which she reluctantly handed back to him, and Todd replaced it in its box and walked behind the counter to wrap it up while Mr Ollivander showed her parents which of the coins they had with them were Galleons.

As the family walked back out into the streets of Diagon Alley, Todd seized on the opportunity to pick his dad's brain.

'So unicorn hair and holly — why that one? What could you sense about her that made you choose it? I feel like Muggle-borns are especially hard to pin down, since we can't use their parents' wands as a guide for which kinds of wands might choose them.'

Mr Ollivander opened his mouth, but suddenly the bell jingled again as the shop door opened, and he was happily greeting the Swifts, so Todd picked up the tape measure with silver markings around his neck and knelt down, with a sigh, beginning to measure the Swifts' son. Then the Sinistras were in here with their daughter, and Todd was surreptitiously checking his pocket watch an hour later after both children had found their wands, as his dad and the Swifts and the Sinistras all chattered happily about their old days at Hogwarts and what the future had in store for their children.

To Todd's frustration, the day continued at this pace unceasingly until finally, when a dark-haired wizard left the shop with a brand new wand to replace his broken one, Todd heaved a sigh of relief as his dad locked the front door and turned the sign in the window from 'Open' to 'Closed'.

' _Please_ Dad, walk me through some of your thinking today,' Todd said. 'I'm in the dark here. The reasons behind some of the choices you made are a complete mystery to me.'

Mr Ollivander rubbed his tired face. 'Not today, Todd. There's other work I have to get to this evening.'

'Well,' Todd said, trying not to let his frustration cloud his judgment as he weighed whether to bring this up, 'can we at least talk about your decision to sell a new wand to that bloke just now?'

His dad made an impatient noise as he began cleaning up the shop front with several waves of his wand.

'The way his wand was broken — you _know_ that was Dark magic, Dad. I _know_ you noticed how suspicious that crack down the middle was.'

'Todd, I don't know how often we have to go over this. And I did not appreciate you clearing your throat multiple times, and refusing to help me, while I searched for a new wand for that man.'

'He's almost certainly a Death Eater, Dad! We can't ignore the role that we're playing here! We are essentially _assisting_ You-Know-Who when we sell wands to Dark wizards!'

'So we'll be withholding magic from people based on your hunches now, will we?'

'We don't have to base it on my hunches, Dad. There is a _very easy way_ to check whether someone is a Death Eater.'

The two Ollivander men both glared at each other.

'Withholding magic from some witches and wizards — that is something Dark wizards do. It is not something we do.'

'It's _completely_ different from wanting to withhold magic from Muggle-borns! It could mean saving a life, or multiple lives!'

'Do you honestly think there would be no consequences to this idea you've been proposing? Do you honestly think it wouldn't prompt attacks?'

'Let them come,' Todd said fiercely. 'We can take them! We're better duellists than they are!'

'Unbelievable arrogance,' his father muttered. 'That's your pride talking, and frankly, Todd, I've been hearing a bit too much of your pride talking this summer. I don't like it.'

Todd sighed, exasperated. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. 'Did you say you have more work this evening? What work do you still have?'

'I promised Jack I would help him with a duelling demonstration today after I closed the shop.'

'A duelling demonstration? For who?'

'For Miss Gibson, of course.'

'Isn't this a little more important?' Todd asked, slightly irritated. His dad had been helping Coakley with Maggie's lessons a lot this summer and was noticeably neglecting his own apprentice's education.

'Certainly not,' Mr Ollivander said, raising his eyebrows. 'And while I'm working upstairs, I'll need you to update the books with all the sales we've made today.'

' _Again_? Dad, I'm training to be a wandsmith, not a bloody accountant!'

'You are training to be helpful to this shop in whatever way is necessary at any given time,' said Mr Ollivander, raising his voice a bit.

'Right then,' Todd snapped. 'Another year that I won't understand how to pair wands with wizards. Brilliant. That shouldn't pose any problems in the future whatsoever! No, as long as my bloody maths skills are spot on, Ollivander's will carry on quite well in my capable hands!'

'You are not a _prince_ , Todd,' his father said sharply. 'The future of Ollivander's does not rest solely on your shoulders. Ollivander's has suffered during times that our ancestors have thought themselves _special_ , have fancied themselves sorcerers far more gifted than anyone else.'

'I don't think that! If I thought that, I wouldn't even be asking you for help, would I?'

'Then do what you're told,' his father said shortly, indicating that this conversation was over. 'I'm going to get things ready upstairs. Make sure you open the door for Miss Gibson when she arrives.'

Todd scowled as his father ascended the spiral staircase. He pulled out the large ledger book, dropped it on the counter with a loud _thump_ , and began furiously flipping through the pages.

Quill in hand, Todd leafed through the receipts, tallying the day's earnings and updating the written inventory. He had to fix the occasional ink blot as he stabbed angrily at the ledger book. Was Maggie rapidly becoming his dad's favourite apprentice? She was certainly talented, that was for sure, but she was far less experienced than Todd, so it was hard to gauge who was better. Was she already showing promise that was so impressive that Todd's dad was thinking about discarding his plans for Todd and grooming Maggie to head the shop one day?

The idea wasn't so absurd. Garrick Ollivander often spoke critically of the tradition in which blood was placed before merit when it came to the leadership at Ollivander's. When he'd been younger, Todd has shrugged this off, assuming he would prove himself a superior wandsmith anyway and inherit the shop based on blood _and_ merit.

It should've been a red flag, though, when Todd's dad had been wary of the idea of Todd forgoing his first four years of a Hogwarts education, as Ollivander tradition dictated. Eleven-year-old Todd had insisted — he wasn't about to be the first Ollivander to break the tradition!

But had his dad been trying to tell him something? Had he been subtly hinting to Todd not to get his hopes up?

The older Todd got, the more he realised just how presumptuous he'd been, a child insisting that he knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up. Because it wasn't up to Todd, whether he was going to run the shop one day, was it? It was up to his dad.

There was a tentative tapping at the window, and Todd, startled, accidentally knocked over the ink bottle, and thick, black ink spread rapidly across the entire page.

'Fuck,' he hissed, taking out his wand hurriedly and removing the spill. To his horror, the spell also removed all of his work — and some of his dad's as well — from the page entirely. 'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck!'_

Maggie tapped a little more forcefully, and Todd, enraged, suppressed the urge to heave the book through the window right at her head. He strode to the doorknob, performed the complicated little charm to unlock it, and angrily threw open the door.

Maggie stepped through the Thief's Downfall, drying herself off immediately with her wand.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to that,' she said absentmindedly. 'Do you know where Mr Coakley is? He told me my lesson would be a little different than usual today.'

'DOES IT _FUCKING_ LOOK LIKE I KNOW WHERE COAKLEY IS, MAGGIE?' Todd shouted, his stress and tension and frustration boiling over, and Maggie jumped back, looking startled and frightened.

'S-sorry,' she said, her voice tiny as she darted toward the back hall.

'UPSTAIRS, THEY'RE UPSTAIRS!' Todd fumed, pointing toward the spiral staircase.

'OK. OK,' she said, changing direction and scurrying toward the stairs. Todd's dad and Coakley suddenly appeared on the staircase, looking alarmed.

'What the bloody hell are you shouting about, lad?' Coakley said.

'Maggie… she just… my work is all…' Todd sputtered incoherently.

'Completely unacceptable behaviour, Todd,' his dad said sharply. 'What has gotten _into_ you lately?'

'I _hate_ doing the books at the end of the day, Dad, if we could just —'

'Well then you'll be doing them every evening for the rest of the month, Todd. Your impertinence has gotten out of control. It's hardly acceptable for you to speak to _me_ the way you have been lately, let alone a fellow member of the crew.'

Todd said nothing, scowling at the blank page of the ledger book.

'Well, hen, that's one way tae get your adrenaline at the right level for a duelling lesson,' Coakley said, sniggering, as a thoroughly shaken Maggie followed the two wizards back up the staircase.

As they disappeared, Todd turned back to his work, even more incensed than he'd been before. Was there any aspect of his life that Maggie _wasn't_ making more difficult for him since she'd arrived?


	14. Gringotts

Making Todd handle the books every evening certainly seemed like a fittingly harsh punishment, but, unfortunately, Maggie had to experience the effect it had on him every day.

In the beginning of the summer, Maggie rarely saw Todd. They barely ever crossed paths, and it was obvious that Todd was going out of his way to make sure that was the case.

But now, Maggie had to start each day at the wandshop with a brief, uncomfortable encounter with Todd Ollivander. He was always the only one in the shop when she arrived for her evening lessons, and every day, he had to come unlock the door for her. He was often irritable, never chatty, and always scowling. _Piss off, Todd_ , she often thought to herself. _I'm not thrilled to see you either._

Still, nothing and no one could dampen her spirits for very long. She, Maggie Gibson, was an apprentice at Ollivander's, and she was a witch with a life ahead of her that was so exciting and brilliant that it sparkled. She tried to keep this in mind as she continued her duelling lessons with Mr Coakley this evening. Maggie had decided about a week ago that she'd been slightly mistaken when she considered duelling lessons with him to be fun. The truth was, they were bloody exhausting.

'Again!'

Mr Coakley threw her wand back to her, and Maggie prepared herself again to attempt to hold her own against him.

'One. Two. Three!'

She cast a Shield Charm instantly, which was lucky, because Mr Coakley had immediately moved to send a hex her way that _pinged_ off her shield at the last minute. She recognised a look in his face that gave away that he was about to attempt to disarm her, and in this split second, she Apparated to a corner of the room behind him.

Unfortunately, he disarmed her as soon as she reappeared, but Maggie was able to snatch her wand back fiercely — she could do that about half the time now — and sought to cast a Scalding Charm on his wand, but he blocked it. He hit her with three hexes in rapid succession, all of which she frantically blocked in a crackling, sparking, flashing blur. A sudden idea occurred to her. She turned on the spot, Disapparating back to her original location, but she spun on the spot again as soon as she arrived and disappeared to a third spot, before hitting Mr Coakley with a hex again.

He put up a massive Shield Charm, and Maggie, enraged to have been thwarted again, screamed ' _Pulsare!_ ' in frustration. She didn't know why she did it; it was pointless to send hexes at Mr Coakley's Shield Charms, they were too strong. But — inexplicably — jaw-droppingly — the charm had the effect of actually _pushing_ Mr Coakley's shield toward him, and he fell backward as if he'd just been hit, hard, with a huge, rapidly propelled door.

'Och!'

Even in her shock, Maggie acted quickly, disarming him as he fell back. With his footing as precarious as it was, he couldn't grab his wand back, and Maggie didn't even bother to catch it as it soared toward her, and she hit Mr Coakley with a Full-Body Bind Hex as he fell toward the ground.

Maggie gaped as Mr Coakley dropped toward the hardwood floor. 'I won!' she breathed in disbelief, too stunned to move for a second, before she realised that he couldn't respond because he was paralysed on the ground. 'Oh, Mr Coakley, I'm so sorry!'

She rushed toward him. ' _Finite_. I'm so sorry about that! Are you all right?'

But Mr Coakley was grinning. 'Bloody brilliant, Maggie. Bloody. Brilliant! Help me up, hen.' He groaned as she took his outstretched arm and got him to his feet. 'Did you know that was gonnae happen? I've never seen someone physically move a Shield Charm before!'

'No! It's rather rare for me to see someone cast a Shield Charm that big, so it's never even occurred to me to try to _move_ it before!'

'This is an _excellent_ trick,' Mr Coakley muttered, slightly lost in thought. 'It could make our opponents' Shield Charms significantly less effective! Unfortunately, they'll catch on as soon as you dae it once, but still... still an _extremely_ effective use of the element of surprise the first time round, at least... Well, Maggie darlin', I think that's as good a place as any tae end our lessons the day.'

'Really?'

'Aye. Also, I'd like tae have Betty take a look at this welt on the back of my heed that you gave me, I think,' he said, touching it and wincing slightly.

'I _am_ really sorry about that,' she said apologetically.

'Nae bother, hen, nae bother! I'm the one who taught you no' to pull any punches, after all. A Full-Body Bind Hex eliminates the threat very effectively once you've caught an opponent off guard, I would've scolded you if you didnae attempt tae restrain me in any way after disarming me. Besides, this was one of the most interesting things tae happen tae me all week!' he said eagerly. 'Well worth any pain I'll be feeling in the morning!'

Maggie laughed at her teacher's genuine delight in being shoved to the ground. 'All right. Well I'll see you tomorrow, then. I might be running a tiny bit late,' she said, sighing. 'It's so hard to squeeze errands in, between waitressing in Southwark and having lessons here. I keep trying to leave work soon enough to make it to Diagon Alley before 5 o'clock, but I never manage it, even when I Apparate. I have some Muggle money I've been wanting to exchange for Galleons and Sickles.'

'You do know that Gringotts is open all night, no?' Mr Coakley said.

'It is?' she said, taken aback.

'Aye. Goblins donnae keep typical hours.'

'Oh! Well, excellent then, I'll head there now. Wish I'd known that sooner.'

* * *

Maggie felt so bloody professional, the heels of her ankle boots clicking briskly along the cobbled road of Diagon Alley as her emerald green apprentice robes billowed out behind her, the adrenaline from the duel still coursing through her veins. She had about 150 pounds she needed to exchange for wizard gold. The first day of term at Hogwarts was just over two weeks away, and she hadn't had a spare moment to buy everything she needed for her Seventh Year.

She could see from here, in the soft, warm light from the recently lit lanterns along Diagon Alley, that even at 8 o'clock there was a moderately large group of witches and wizards queueing outside the bank as wizards with Probity Probes searched the bank's customers before allowing them to enter. Maggie took her place at the end of the queue.

Bored, she produced several pages of wandlore notes that her enchanted typewriter had taken during one of Mr Coakley's lectures about the different types of dragon heartstrings and how they created different tendencies in wands. ' _Lumos_.' Her wand illuminating the parchment, Maggie began to pour over the notes, attempting to decipher the typewriter's at-times amusing attempts at transcribing Mr Coakley's accent.

Her mind was elsewhere until the conversation of two wizards in front of her slowly began to catch her attention.

'Did you hear that the Potters had a _baby_ two weeks ago?'

'I did! James Potter, a father? I can't even picture it!'

'Can you imagine, becoming parents at our age?'

'Certainly not you, not unless right hands can get pregnant,' his friend said, sniggering.

'Oh, piss off! I've been with loads of birds, you fat twat. But he's fucked now, isn't he? Potter? Solidified his status as a blood-traitor.'

'Yeah. The Potters have always supported Dumbledore, so they were always on shaky ground, but letting their son breed with a Mudblood? That's an easy way to ostracize yourself from half the wizarding world these days. What an idiot.'

'I can barely blame him, though,' the other wizard said, grinning. 'Have you seen his bird?'

'You're not wrong. The ginger girl? A penis flytrap if I've ever seen one.'

His friend laughed. 'If she set her sights on me, I'm not sure I'd be able to watch my, er, _wand_ , either, if you follow me.'

His friend snorted. 'Well we all know what happened to Clelland, don't we?'

'Come again?'

'You know, the limerick? About how Mudbloods get their wands? Don't tell me you've never heard it!' And then, in a low voice, the wizard began to recite a rhyme with a grin:

There once was a pureblood called Clelland

Who fancied a Muggle from Yelland

He fooled around with the blonde

Till the bird nicked his wand

And his only rod left had a bellend

The two wizards guffawed heartily, and red sparks crackled from Maggie's wand as she grasped it.

'Do you really think that's how some Mudblood women get their hands on a wand?' the wizard asked.

'Nick them off purebloods while the blokes are rushing around for a quick one?' The other wizard shrugged. 'Sure, maybe. I bet loads of them didn't get accepted to Hogwarts, they just lie and say that they went there.'

'Clever of her to go after Potter. She's somewhat safer, wheedling her way into a pureblood family like that… Wigson, can you imagine how much action blood-traitor blokes get? If I were one, I bet loads of fit Mudbloods would be throwing themselves at me, trying to improve their status!'

'Yeah, but then they'd trap you, wouldn't they? They'd lie about drinking Fallow Brew, and suddenly there's another half-blood in the wizarding world.'

'I bet that's exactly what happened to Potter. Probably got coerced into marrying her once she was up the duff. Poor bloke.'

Maggie was trembling with anger, to the point that the pieces of parchment in her hand were shaking uncontrollably while the two wizards worked to figure out whether the Potters' wedding was less than nine months ago. How much trouble would she get in if she hexed these foul little cunts? She could have them on the ground, howling in pain, in seconds. ' _Sorry chaps, hope I didn't get any mud on you,_ ' she'd say, stepping on them as she made her way into Gringotts.

But the wizards with Probity Probes were already searching the two men and let them pass through. They motioned for Maggie to step forward.

As Maggie held her arms up and the security wizard passed the thin golden probe in front of her, a horrifying thought began to creep into her mind. _'It must be so great, being a pretty girl. Everyone loves you, and you always get what you want._ ' Todd had been so cold — and lately, downright hostile — toward her in the year since he thought she'd been flirting with him to get into Ollivander's. Was it because he, like those two wizards, thought that Muggle-born witches were like an Eve with an apple, a barely irresistible temptress trying to seduce pureblood wizards so that she could be safe, or improve her status in the wizarding world, or whatever other idiotic theories those ogres had cobbled together in their underdeveloped brains?

The more Maggie thought about it, the likelier it seemed. The wizard waved her through, and she walked into Gringotts, barely aware of her surroundings as she continued to silently seethe.

It made sense, didn't it? Todd just thought of her as some little Mudblood slag who was trying to seduce him, and the minute he realised he wasn't going to get to tit her up, he lashed out.

She headed toward the currency exchange desk, absentmindedly digging in her handbag while blood pounded in her ears. She was usually quite careful. She usually waited till she arrived at the window to produce her Muggle money, but in her distracted state she had taken out the wad of pound notes she had earned while waitressing this summer, and was unfurling and rifling through the notes in her hands. Big mistake.

'Filthy Mudblood,' croaked an old, hoary-looking warlock, and he shot what Maggie could only assume was the Jelly-Legs Curse, seeing as it rendered her legs suddenly useless, and she cried out in pain as she hit the bank's marble floor, hard. In her haste to throw out her hands to catch herself, her money had fluttered and scattered everywhere, and a few witches and wizards bent down to pocket it.

'No!' she cried in a quavering voice, fumbling awkwardly for her wand. _'Accio!'_ Pound notes flew out of several people's pockets, and they turned away, grumbling. Now, with all her money returned to her, Maggie wiped a couple of tears hastily away with her shoulder, wracking her brain for the counter curse. Several people stared — though many kept their heads down — and no one came to her aid. The warlock was either a Death Eater, or everyone simply suspected he was.

She finally remembered and muttered the counter-curse, wincing as feeling returned painfully to her legs. She got up with some effort, breathing raggedly. When the old warlock followed a Goblin down into the vaults, one of the young wizards she'd heard talking earlier peered over at her with interest, and decided to approach her, smiling. 'You all right, love? That was quite a tumble you took.'

'Don't you dare touch me,' she spat, sending a hex his way that blasted him off his feet.

'Oy!'

Frightened about the possible consequences of this decision of hers, she fled, shoving her way past several people, before she pushed open the Gringotts doors and scrambled down the stairs. She rounded a corner and collapsed in a darkened space between two shops, burying her face in her knees, and choked out the angry sobs that tumbled out of her like waves.


	15. The Duel

Maggie had decided not to tell Mr Coakley about how she'd been hexed at Gringotts yesterday. She couldn't quite bear to relate the story to anyone yet.

She was quite stoic as she arrived at Ollivander's for her lessons, but Mr Coakley just assumed that was due to nerves over his desire to have all the apprentices duel this evening.

The way duels at Ollivander's worked, he had told her, was that two people squared off at a time, and the winner then duelled the next person. The way it often went down was that Will squared off against Sana, then Sana beat him and squared off against Todd, who often beat her, Mr Coakley had said.

If she was being completely honest, she _was_ quite nervous, thinking about properly duelling another apprentice for the first time. But, overall, she wasn't feeling anything today other than pure, unadulterated hatred toward Todd Ollivander. She hadn't made much in tips today because she spoke to most everyone today with narrowed eyes and in a dangerously low voice.

Maggie and Mr Coakley emerged from the first-floor back room, making their way into the shop front. As they approached the counter, Maggie didn't care to look at Todd, who clearly didn't care to look at her either. He kept writing, not looking up even as the two of them were standing in front of him. Prick.

'Care tae take a break from the invigorating work before ye, lad, and duel some apprentices?' Coakley said, grinning.

Todd stopped writing, staring at the huge ledger book on the counter. He looked up, finally. His eyes flicked to Maggie for a split second, and he shrugged. 'Sure,' he said, closing the book with a snap.

'After you,' Mr Coakley said, gesturing toward the wrought-iron spiral staircase. Todd led the way up into the workshop, where several wandsmiths seemed to be gathering up their things to leave. Mr Coakley walked over to Mr Watts and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

'Watts, my friend, I think we're long overdue for a duelling competition between the apprentices, dae you agree? Can you spare Will for an ooor or so?'

Mr Watts, looking interested, peered over at his apprentice. 'What do you say, Will?' he said, smiling kindly. 'Fancy a duel?'

'Erm... all right,' Will said, looking a little warily over Watts' shoulder at a less-than-cheery Todd Ollivander.

Mr Coakley then made his way over to Miss Kim, who watched him approach with a raised eyebrow.

'Jack appears to be on a mission, Sana,' Miss Kim said sardonically.

'Well I'm never one to discourage Coakley's fun,' Sana said, grinning. 'You will bet on _me_ , won't you, Coakley?'

'As long as it's no' against Maggie, I always will, my dear,' Mr Coakley said with a bow.

'Jack,' Miss Kim said disapprovingly, 'we _really_ don't condone gambling —'

'I donnae know what Sana's oon about, Haeyoun, havenae got a clue. Garrick!' Mr Coakley said brightly as Mr Ollivander descended the staircase from the third floor with Nate, Kurt and Mr Iqbal. 'The idea of an apprentices duel has arisen rather organically —' Sana looked over at Will and snorted '— and I'd be delighted if you were the one tae referee.'

Mr Ollivander checked his pocketwatch. 'It's a bit late, isn't it, Jack?'

'Well, we've got to dae it at a time when Maggie can participate, after all.'

'Ah, of course,' Mr Ollivander said, looking over at her and smiling. 'That's true. No time like the present to begin honing your skills as a duellist, Miss Gibson.'

Maggie gave Mr Ollivander her first, small smile of the day. He and Mr Coakley had given her a spectacular duelling demonstration last week, which had inspired many of the moves she'd used in recent days with Mr Coakley. But, more than anything, Mr Ollivander had said he wanted to meet with her on this simply to impress upon her the importance of practising this work, of seeking to excel at it, because her safety depended on it. Though, her hard work clearly wasn't paying off yet, Maggie thought unhappily, if she could still get hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx by any old wizard who took her by surprise.

'Have fun with that,' Maggie heard Will mutter to Sana, jerking his head toward a scowling Todd.

'You might have to face him yourself, if you beat me.'

Will laughed. 'That's nice of you to say, Sana, but you and I both know how unlikely that is.'

Mr Coakley was doing something with his wand on the workshop floor, hands outstretched. At first, it looked like he was creating some sort of portal in the air, but then Maggie realised he was fiddling with the protective enchantments that were already in place.

'Right then,' Mr Coakley said energetically in a booming voice. 'I've temporarily done away with the Apparation wards here on the workshop floor. This will be a duel in which Apparation is fair game for both o' you.' He swept half a dozen tables aside with a flick of his wand. 'Todd and Maggie,' he said, pointing at them with his free hand. 'That's you.'

Todd looked a little startled. 'I think you've got that backwards, Coakley. It'll be Will and Maggie who'll start us off.'

'I thought we could dae things a little differently the day, Todd. Go in order by age, instead of apprentice year.'

Todd furrowed his brow. 'By age? That... doesn't really make sense.'

'Donnae think you can take her?' Mr Coakley asked innocently. Todd blinked, looking at him incredulously. Suddenly, he spun on his heel, facing Maggie.

'Maggie,' Todd said crossly, gesturing to the centre of the room. 'I'd like to challenge you to a duel.'

'Ah — ah, Coakley!' Mr Watts seemed a bit thrown off. 'Can we speak to you for a minute?'

Mr Coakley approached him smugly, and Mr Watts, Mr Iqbal, Kurt and Nate all huddled around each other. Maggie thought at first that Mr Watts was concerned about Maggie facing off against someone far more experienced, but as Mr Ollivander shot Miss Kim an exasperated look and both rolled their eyes, Maggie realised with a start that the five wizards were just trying to figure out what her odds were. Maggie saw Watts produce a piece of parchment, jotting down numbers with a quill as the group muttered to each other.

Mr Coakley said something, and the four men responded with laughter and noises of disbelief. Todd raised an eyebrow as he watched them. Mr Coakley seemed to be insisting on whatever bet he was placing, and eventually, the group came back to the centre of the workshop. Maggie overheard Mr Iqbal mutter 'off his nut' to Mr Watts, who responded with something that included the phrase 'ridiculous gambling problem.' Mr Coakley said nothing, smiling contentedly to himself. He gave Maggie an encouraging nod.

Blood was pounding in Maggie's ears again as she followed Todd toward the centre of the room. He was staring her down brashly, looking her in the eye for what was probably only the second or third time all summer. His face was set, and he didn't seem to have any problems hexing her. Fine. She was looking forward to hexing him as well.

'All right.' Mr Ollivander strode to the sidelines of their little makeshift duelling space. 'You two know how to begin.'

Todd gave a classic duelling bow that seemed a little too formal and, for one reason or another, simply got on Maggie's nerves. She returned with her own snarky curtsy. This seemed to just confuse Todd.

'On the count of three. One. Two... Three!'

Maggie Disapparated on the spot, which looked like the right move, because it appeared that he had attempted to disarm her immediately. She reappeared closely behind him — a little closer than Todd had anticipated, because while it looked like he had been expecting her to reappear behind him, he'd also expected to have enough room to sweep his arm out to cast his next spell. Or maybe he'd _wanted_ to elbow her in the face. She ignored the pain and hit him with a Confundus Charm (blocked) and a wand-heating hex (blocked) before she moved to simply wrench his stupid wand out of his hand, and he looked at her like she was mental as he turned on the spot.

Fuck. He was in the crowd now. Are you even allowed to do that? Maggie felt her wand fly out of her hand, and she lunged forward to snatch it back with both hands before she dropped to the ground as she felt a hex graze the top of her head. She pointed her wand at one of the workshop tables, picked it up with magic and threw it into the crowd.

'What the — !' 'Oi!' 'Coh!' The crew scattered, and Todd scattered with them. He — was he — _grinning?_ Was this arsehole having _fun_ , Maggie thought incredulously as she watched him run as he cast something invisible into the air, and then something that felt like a small cyclone came down on her, hard, a split second later, and Maggie decided to Apparate out of sheer panic that her reaction time would be delayed after the wind had been knocked out of her like that. She actually left Diagon Alley, Apparating into her bedroom back at her flat. She stood, breathing hard and staring absurdly at her pink duvet for about five seconds before she turned on the spot and Apparated back into the Ollivander's workshop.

Todd was raising his hands, as if to say, 'What the hell, Maggie?' but he still had that ridiculous smile on his face. 'Welcome back!' he cried as he shot two fierce curses her way, but he was knocked back slightly as she cast an enormous Shield Charm. He turned on the spot, and Maggie whipped around, expecting him to appear behind her, but instead she was hit with the Confundus Charm out of nowhere. SHIT. The bastard had faked her out, Maggie realised furiously as she staggered, and she turned back toward him and focused all her hatred toward Todd to hit him with two desperate curses — one that would burn him, and one that would slash open his cheek. She'd be damned if he won this without at least feeling some sort of pain. Caught off guard by the intensity of these spells, Todd cast an enormous Shield Charm, and before he'd even finished flicking his wand across his body, Maggie desperately thought, _'Pulsare!'_ and just like Mr Coakley, Todd was knocked backwards, hard, with a look of shock on his face.

 _'Expelliarmus!'_ she screamed, and, again, just like with Mr Coakley, she didn't even move to catch Todd's wand. She simply paralysed him on his way down, and she smiled happily and she heard him fall rather hard onto the wood floor.

There was a stunned silence.

'...what?' Will said lamely.

Four more seconds of silence later, the entire crowd suddenly erupted into applause.

Mr Watts leaned down to free Todd from Maggie's hex. 'Are you all right, mate?' Mr Watts said over the din, laughing in disbelief, as he helped Todd to his feet. Todd shoved Watts off as soon as he stood up. Todd's grin was gone. He was now breathing heavily, staring at Maggie with a look of absolute fury on his face.

'Fucking brilliant, Maggie!' Mr Coakley cried, a look of pure pride on his face as he rushed toward her. She grinned back at him. 'Get it up ye, Watts!' Coakley was delighted, taking Maggie in his arms and beginning to dance with her. She was a little dazed, but happily so. She was technically still Confunded. 'My apprentice just beat a bloody wee Ollivander! That's fifty Galleons tae me, ye bastards!'

Mr Coakley continued to cackle and twirl Maggie while the crew moved forward to congratulate her. Out of the corner of her eye while she was shaking several outstretched hands, she saw Mr Ollivander, who looked slightly stunned, say something to his son. Todd looked at the ground, still breathing heavily. He hadn't even been moving around the room that much, Maggie was confused why he was so out of breath.

'All right,' Mr Ollivander, still looking a bit taken aback, said over the noise. 'Let's take a 20-minute break, and then Miss Gibson will face Mr Kershner next.'

'What did she do, exactly?' Maggie heard Will whisper frantically to Mr Watts.

'I — I'm not entirely... sure.'

'Oh. Brilliant then,' Will said weakly. 'Can't wait.'

Todd strode angrily across the room, snatching his wand off the ground, and made his way, seething, to Maggie. _'Two out of three!'_ he hissed at her. 'There's no way you can beat me again without using that _trick!'_

Maggie's jaw dropped at Todd's rudeness. She felt her blood begin to boil. 'I'm sorry. I'm a bit out of sorts right now, but unless I'm mistaken, that's not my understanding of how this works.'

'So you don't think you can win again, then, do you? Can't win without deploying some new idea that Coakley thought up, that he's been keeping from us just so he could win some gold?'

Now Maggie was the one breathing heavily. 'Are you _fucking_ serious?' Maggie hissed.

'Yeah, I am fucking serious!' Todd was actually trembling with rage.

'I am _sick_. And _tired_ —' Maggie said in a dangerously quiet voice as she pointed her wand at Todd's face '— of being made to think that I am a pathetic, feeble, sad excuse for a witch by purebloods like you.' Inexplicably, Todd's expression changed suddenly. The anger drained from his face, and he looked confused, and quite taken aback. 'That I somehow tricked and cheated my way into Hogwarts, that I must have assaulted an old witch in the street and stolen her wand to be in possession of one now.'

'W-what? No, no, Maggie, I don't think that you're — what the — _Protego!'_ Todd was having to put up shield charms because, without even thinking, she was furiously sending hexes his way.

 _'Inflamari!_ I was new to this world! I believed myself that I was second-rate for ages, until finally I realised that I was just as good as anyone else at Hogwarts! _Pertundere!_ But I still have to prove myself time — and — time again! I have to be twice as good as any mediocre wizard to even be considered competent by half the people in this world, and I won't dare let you try to ruin this place for me by dragging that unfounded propaganda into yet another aspect of my life —'

 _'Protego!_ Jesus, Maggie, wait — WAIT — you've got it all wrong, I'm not —'

Maggie moved to knock Todd over with his Shield Charm once again, but he anticipated her this time, and when she shot a spell at his shield, he desperately shot a spell back to prevent it from being pushed his way, and the resulting blast knocked both of them backward. As Maggie flew back, she hit her head on something very sharp, and after a surge of pain, everything went black.


	16. Our Most Inexhaustible Source of Magic

'Should we owl her parents?'

'I think she lives with her brother.'

'Should we owl him? Does anyone know his name?'

'It's Simon.'

'I believe Bernard has delivered at least one letter to her London home… He shouldn't have trouble finding it.'

As she began to regain consciousness, Maggie could sense that several people were uncomfortably close to her, talking in hushed tones.

'She's stirring. I think she's waking up.'

Maggie was not thrilled about the prospect of opening her eyes. She was rather preoccupied with the throbbing pain on the back of her head, and she instinctively reached back to touch the area that was hurting.

'Easy! Easy.' She opened her eyes to find Mr Watts holding something cold to the back of her head, and she realised suddenly that she was lying in a bed. Everyone who witnessed the duel earlier was huddled around her.

'Did… did Todd hex me unconscious?' She was struggling to remember the events of the duel.

Todd, who was at the foot of the bed, shook his head nervously.

'No, you were simply both thrown back from the blast of your combined spells,' Mr Watts said, producing what appeared to be a goblet of potion. 'But, you were the only one to hit your head on the wrought-iron spiral staircase in the corner.'

'That thing's a health and safety nightmare,' Will joked.

Several people in the room laughed nervously. Feelings of embarrassment started to creep into Maggie's head as she recalled herself shrieking to Todd about her insecurities for the whole crew to hear.

'I think you might have concussion, so I'll need you to drink this,' Mr Watts said kindly. He handed her the potion. It was a rich magenta colour and bubbled pleasantly. 'It will prevent any brain swelling, just in case. And I think it's for the best if you just rest here overnight. We can owl your brother.'

'Oh, no, there's no need for that,' she said. 'I'll just rest at home.' She sat up in the bed, but her head started to spin, and she was suddenly very opposed to the idea of standing up. She promptly laid back against the pillows, feeling nauseous.

'Yes, you'll be staying here for now, I think,' Mr Watts said, smiling at Maggie as she took weak sips from the potion.

'Right. Let's gie the poor girl some space tae breathe,' Mr Coakley said gruffly, shooing people out of the room. 'Let her rest.' The crowd thinned a bit, but Mr Coakley put a hand on Todd's chest as he attempted to leave.

'No' you,' Mr Coakley sternly.

'But you just said —'

'You two need tae clear the air. You'll be working together, possibly for the rest of your lives, and I'll no' have a couple of apprentices acting like arses and wanting tae hex each other aul the time. For once in your life, talk tae a lassie without acting like an eejit.'

Coakley shut the door in Todd's face. He stood facing the door for several moments before he finally turned around, looking nervous and uneasy.

'I'm very sorry,' he mumbled at the ground. He seemed to want to get this over with as quickly as possible. 'Coakley told me that it was your discovery, not his, that you can push a Shield Charm toward someone. I should've known. I'm sorry.'

'Fine,' Maggie said curtly. She raised her knees up under the duvet, staring angrily at her reflection in the window across the room.

'It's got nothing to do with you being _Muggle-born_ ,' Todd said indignantly. He seemed insulted that she'd even suggested it. 'I don't care about that sort of thing.'

'Obviously you do,' she said, her temper flaring. She sat up quickly, ignoring the nausea that it caused. 'I can't believe wizards like you think that Muggle-born witches are these — these kind of — of — manipulative Veela, that we're always trying to seduce pureblood wizards —'

'Wait — what?'

'— that we're some sort of mermaids luring sailors to their death, that pureblood wizards have to "watch their wands", or we'll ensnare them to try to improve our legitimacy in the wizarding world!'

Understanding was dawning on Todd's face. He looked a bit horrified.

'Why would wizards say that _Lily Evans_ seduced _James Potter_?' Maggie said, her voice breaking slightly as the memory of the two wizards' conversation flooded her mind. 'Everyone knows that _James_ is the lucky one, for her to have given him a chance! That _he_ was the one chasing after _her_ for years! She's a better witch than he is a wizard! But Muggle-borns are treated like such second-class citizens that everyone still thought that she got together with him just to have some sort of… status!' she spat.

'Maggie!' Todd held up his hands desperately. He had previously been standing up against the door, but he was approaching her pleadingly now, shaking his head emphatically. 'I _don't_ think that! You have to believe me! Only the stupidest, worst wizards believe that sort of shit! How long have you thought that I thought that?'

Maggie said nothing, glaring at Todd silently.

'OK, I did accuse you of — of — acting like you fancied me to get into Ollivander's, but that's not because I believe any of that rubbish that disgusting Dark, pureblood wizard fathers tell their disgusting Dark, pureblood sons! It's just — it's just — it's just because I'm an _idiot_ when it comes to girls! I've since thought for ages now that I misread the situation, that I was wrong to say all the stuff I said to you last summer.'

'Have you, now? Yet you never apologised, and refused to speak to me the entire time I've been here, except to snap at me!'

'I was _embarrassed_ , Maggie,' Todd said, looking pained. 'I made an arse of myself that day, not to mention in Flourish and Blotts more recently, and I felt like I couldn't show my face around you anymore!'

'You weren't embarrassed! You've been holding a grudge against me since I got here!'

'There have been… other factors, other reasons that I've been… a prat… to you…' Todd said, looking a bit ashamed. 'But now, I… I absolutely despise myself for making you think something… something like _that_.' He looked slightly nauseous.

'What could the other factors possibly be?'

Todd sighed, exasperated. 'Please don't make me say it.'

'Well, I don't believe you, then.'

Todd frowned, first at her, then out the window for a while. He sighed again, resigned. 'I don't think you're inferior to me, Maggie,' he said softly. 'I think you're superior to me. I'm… jealous. Of your abilities.'

Maggie blinked, startled. 'You're _jealous_? Of me?'

'It terrifies me out of my wits, to hear Coakley sing your praises, to see my dad take more of an interest in your studies than in mine.' He sighed again. 'No one can be better than me, Maggie. Don't you understand? I have to be the best! If I'm not…' he gestured desperately, addressing the window '... well, what then? It means I'm an inferior wandsmith, unqualified to run the shop.'

Maggie frowned. Todd seemed to be making some odd logical leaps here. First of all… 'Why do you think I'm superior to you?' she asked curiously.

He raised his eyebrows. 'Well, for starters… you're a first-year apprentice, and I'm a _ninth_ -year apprentice, and you did just beat me in a duel.'

'I mean…' Maggie couldn't believe that she was seeking to encourage Todd, after everything, but she couldn't help but point out the flaws in his logic. 'You actually seemed to sort of have the upper-hand for most of the duel. And then, as soon as it was over, as soon as you realised I could push your Shield Charm toward you, you knew how to block it the second time around. You probably _would_ have won two out of three.'

'Please don't repeat the two-out-of-three thing I said,' he mumbled, looking embarrassed. He fiddled nervously with his wand.

'Well, I don't think you're inferior to me.'

'I'm a better judge of that than you are.'

'Now that doesn't make any sense.' Maybe it was because the concussion was making her a bit loopy, but she started to giggle lightly at his incoherent argument. 'I'm an inferior judge at being able to tell that I'm superior to you?'

Todd rolled his eyes, but he was smiling slightly. Through the window, Maggie heard Diagon Alley's troubadour strumming something soft and pretty in the streets below.

'You're not supposed to be _superior_ to the other apprentices,' she said to Todd. 'Mr Ollivander doesn't act superior to Mr Coakley and Miss Kim. They're a team. He knows that they bring skills and ways of thinking to the table that are different from what he has, and he appreciates it. I can tell, from the way he treats Mr Coakley.'

Todd chuckled a bit.

'What?' Maggie said, confused. 'What's so funny?'

'It just makes me laugh.' He smiled without looking at her. 'To hear you call him _Mister_ Coakley all the time. He's never been anything other than Coakley to me since I was old enough to talk.' He stared out the window for a bit, his grin widening slightly. '"Have you seen Mister Coakley?'" he said, taking on a slightly higher voice with a shadow of a Cockney accent. '"He told me my lessons would be a bit different today".'

'That's not what I sound like!' Maggie said, a bit put out.

'Trust me on this, Maggie, that's exactly what you sound like. It's adorable.' Todd was staring out the window, lost in thought. 'A team...' He murmured to himself. 'You're... not wrong...'

Todd seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Maggie eyes wandered around the room. For the first time since she'd regained consciousness, she wondered where, exactly, in Ollivander's she was. There were several large bookshelves against the walls, some holding books — several of them looked like novels — and others holding dozens of glass containers of all shapes and sizes. She recognised some as potion ingredients and others as ink bottles and wand polish, but many of the jars were a mystery to her. There was a Puddlemere United bar scarf hanging on a large wooden hook on the wall. A broomstick was mounted above a large desk that was cluttered with books — were those Muggle library books? — letters, quills, pieces of parchment, ink bottles, magazines, and, most intriguingly, several wands. Most noticeably was a wand-half that was made out of a material that Maggie wasn't used to seeing. Most of the plant, whatever it was, had been structured into a typical, sleek wand shape, save for one, tiny thin vine that had been pressed into it, leaves and all, curled tightly around just one half of it.

'I forget, sometimes,' Todd said suddenly. 'How people treat Muggle-borns these days. The awful things you have to hear. Ten years ago, being a Muggle-born wouldn't be anything other than a mildly interesting detail about you, and the only people you'd hear talk about blood purity would be a few, stupid families who most everybody ignored. I forget how bad it's gotten, sometimes. And it's getting worse this year. Have you noticed it's gotten worse?'

'I'm not sure,' Maggie said frowning. 'I don't know if people are attacking me more these days because I'm not a child anymore or because You-Know-Who's supporters are getting bolder.'

Todd jerked sharply away from the window to look at Maggie. 'Attacking?' he repeated swiftly. 'What do you mean, "attacking"? Verbally?'

'Er… no...' Maggie said. Hesitating at first, she decided to tell him everything that happened to her at Gringotts — how what the two wizards said in the queue distracted her, and how she was hit with that jinx at the bank. Her voice quavering a bit, she stared at her knees while she talked. Looking up as she finished, she was startled to see Todd's face contorted in fury.

'Who were they?' he demanded. 'Who were those blokes in the queue, who was the old wizard who hexed you?"

'I don't know, but Todd, it wouldn't really matter if I did.'

'What did they look like?'

'Todd, it doesn't matter.'

'It bloody well matters to me!' he roared.

'No, I mean, you won't be able to _do_ anything about it, will you? They likely have Death Eater connections! If you retaliate against them, they'll retaliate right back!'

'We can stop this, Maggie,' he said, speaking to her intensely. 'I consider this an attack on Ollivander's. That wizard who hexed you — he needs to pay for that. The Ministry may not do anything, but he can suffer consequences from us. For now, my dad hasn't been brave enough to do anything when Dark wizards come slinking through our front door. But maybe this will be enough to convince him to finally take a stand for once, and then maybe, maybe…'

He faltered for a second, as if something had occurred to him and suddenly distracted him from the politics and strategies of the wizarding war that he was turning over in his mind. He looked at Maggie uncertainly. 'So, you thought… you thought that… that I was like _them_?'

'Erm... sort of,' she said in a small voice.

'Ah,' he said in an equally small voice. He looked slightly nauseous.

'But obviously… I was mistaken,' she said, a little ashamed. 'I'm sorry.'

He waved her apology away, embarrassed. 'My own fault,' he muttered. Suddenly, Todd grabbed a chair from the desk and brought it over to the bed. He sat down and gently took her arm out from under the duvet. For one absurd second, Maggie thought he was going to take her hand and say something ardent, but instead, he pointed his wand at the sleeve of her robes and began muttering an incantation.

'Er… Todd? What… what are you doing?'

He didn't respond while he continued to murmur a disorienting string of Latin in a low voice. Thin, glowing blue strands of light shot from his wand into her robes, arching and criss-crossing across her body. Sparks of light danced across her robes, moving and wiggling and locking into place, and then, just like that, Todd completed the incantation, and they disappeared as her robes absorbed the magic. Todd replaced his wand, looking slightly out of breath.

'Permanent Shield Charm?' she guessed, slightly breathless herself.

'Permanent Shield Charm,' Todd confirmed. 'If you're being attacked in Gringotts,' he said, shaking his head sadly, 'we can't assume you're safe anywhere in Diagon Alley. As amazing a duellist as you are, there's no way you can be on your guard from everyone, everywhere, at all times. This will help with that.'

'Todd... thank you.' She was touched by his idea — his rather ingenious idea — to help her.

Without magic to perform, Todd suddenly seemed a bit awkward, sitting as close to her as he was. He shifted his weight in the chair. 'Maggie, can... can I... ask you something?'

'Sure?'

'So — again — I'm really sorry. For everything, I really am. I've treated you poorly. So, I want you to know, this isn't an excuse. There's just something I have to understand.' Todd was frowning. There seemed to be something he was trying to reconcile in his mind. 'When I was still at Hogwarts… you took this sudden interest in me, out of the blue, during my Seventh Year. I mean, obviously, I understand now that it was because you wanted to ask me about Ollivander's. You made that clear… eventually... but… it took you… months… to bring it up. You would wave at me, when I'd be sitting with Derek in the stands during Quidditch matches. You would walk up to me and say things like, "Er, hi Todd, do you have the time?" or "Where are you going?" or "What are you revising?" or "Stressed about N.E.W.T.s?" I mean… if the whole reason you were coming up to me all those times was to ask me about Ollivander's, I mean, why didn't you just… you know… ask me about Ollivander's?'

Maggie blushed slightly. For the first time, she saw the situation from Todd's point of view. Every time she'd approached Todd, her heart had been hammering in her chest, as she told herself, 'He's not going to call you a Mudblood — just ask him, you idiot!' But she would always lose her nerve. Of course the situation would've looked very different to Todd. She remembered that moment in the Quidditch stands that he had referenced. That was one of many times that she'd thought about asking him what N.E.W.T.s Ollivander's required to work there, but she couldn't work up the courage. Over the din of the cheering and clapping, and through the blue and bronze banners that students were waving, Todd — who'd been sitting with Derek several stands above her — had caught Maggie staring at him. She'd panicked and simply waved. He'd turned around to see who she was waving at, and when he'd realised it was him, he'd tentatively returned the wave. He'd looked confused, but... happy.

'Todd, I'm sorry,' Maggie said. She genuinely meant it. She felt awful. 'I was just so nervous,' she said, shaking her head. 'I wanted to just come out and ask you about Ollivander's the first time I spoke to you, but I kept losing my nerve. I just kept imagining a scene where you would laugh in my face and say, "Ollivander's would never hire a Mudblood!"'

Todd looked sympathetic, but he also coughed out a laugh at the absurdity of her statement. 'Why do you keep thinking that I'm this horribly evil person? Do I have a Dark Mark on my forehead that I'm not aware of or something?'

'It's not you, exactly.' She shrugged helplessly. 'It's just the wizarding world. It's really common, for me to encounter someone who shuns Muggle-borns. I never know how people are going to react to me.'

Todd shook his head bitterly. 'The vast majority of the witches and wizards who shun Muggle-borns are just doing so under threat. Or, not even under threat, really. They're just scared. They're worried that any sign of support makes them a target, makes their families a target. Maggie, I'm so sorry. You deserve to live in a time much better than this one. It didn't used to —'

'— be like this,' she finished wearily. 'So I've heard.'

'It's such a bloody shame that this is all you've known. It really is,' he said quietly. 'Maggie, let me make this up to you. Can we start fresh, on the right foot? Will you give me a clean slate?'

'Yes. Definitely,' she said, without hesitating. She didn't realise how much she'd wanted to clear the air with Todd until now. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her, and Todd looked incredibly relieved by this answer of hers as well.

'Brilliant,' he said. She smiled and him and he smiled back. He stood up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes and looking around vaguely. 'Well, I'll let you rest. I'll just grab a few things and get out of your hair.'

He pulled open the doors of a tall, thin wardrobe that was full of robes and Muggle clothes, rummaging around the bottom of it. He took out an old fashioned-looking sleeping garment, then pulled a dressing gown from one of the hangers.

As he walked over to an adjacent desk, picking up a comb and a book, Maggie couldn't help but ask, 'Todd, is this your room?'

'Er, yeah,' Todd said apologetically. 'We didn't know where else to put you.'

'But where will you sleep?'

'The sofa,' Todd said, jerking his thumb toward the door.

'Are you sure?'

'It's the least I can do,' he said sheepishly. 'It's basically my fault you hit your head in the first place.'

He moved to extinguish the lanterns in his room, but Maggie's curiosity got the better of her. 'What are those?' she said, pointing to the wands on his desk.

Todd regarded her warily. 'How hard did you hit your head, exactly?'

Maggie smirked. 'I know they're _wands_. But why do you have so many wands in your room? Do you have... multiple wands?'

'Ah. No. Those are all the wands that I've made.'

Maggie's jaw dropped. 'You _made_ all those?'

'Mm-hmm.' He walked toward his desk and picked up one, examining it with a half-interest. 'They're not good enough to sell, but I reckon I'm getting close. I'm also experimenting a bit. Seeing which sorts of wands lend themselves to which sorts of magic. This one lends itself to charm work, specifically water-based spells. This one handles transfiguration very well,' he said, pointing at each wand. 'This one is particularly good at battle magic. And, as far as my vine wood wand goes,' Todd said, handling it with a slight reverence, 'I'm not sure yet what kind of magic it'll favour. It's not done yet. No core yet. No thauma.'

'How do you determine what kinds of magic a wand favours?'

Todd shrugged. 'You just mess around with it for a while, and eventually you can just tell. Here, I'll show you. Hand me that cold compress.'

Maggie handed him the cloth wrapped around several pieces of ice that she'd been holding against her head. He sat down at the edge of the bed and unfolded it in his lap.

'See how these aren't melting? That's the work of this wand — I used it to transfigure some water and then froze it when we brought you in here.'

He conjured a small pot out of thin air — quite a good one for such a quick gesture, Maggie noticed — and placed the shards inside it. He then pointed the wand at its contents and began to cast a series of non-verbal spells. The shards of ice began to shrink as they evaporated into a small cloud of mist that hovered above the pot. He shaped the cloud softly in the air, then pointed the wand at it, and delicate snow flurries drifted slowly back into the pot, creating a thin layer of powdery snow at its base. Then, with a flick of the wand, every snowflake melted instantly, the newly melted snow sloshing around the bottom of the pot from the shock. Then Todd began moving the wand in quick, deliberate circles.

Before she knew it, she was staring at a waterspout that was rapidly revolving in the pot.

'Well done,' she said, impressed. 'But… does any of that really have to do with the wand? I always thought that the quality of the magic is all about the skill of the witch or wizard.'

'For the most part, yes. But, based on the features of a wand, each one lends itself to certain types of magic,' Todd said, as he ran his hand slowly through the vertical column of water. 'See, this wand didn't choose me, right? So the magic shouldn't be as good. But that's not the case when it comes to water. In fact, it's almost easier using this one than using mine when it comes to these sorts of spells. See for yourself.'

He handed her the wand.

'Erm, OK.' She thought for a second. _'Separare… suspendere!'_ she said, and the little waterspout exploded into three blobs of water that hung in the air like lazily bobbing jellyfish. Todd was right. The magic performed beautifully, and it wasn't even her wand.

'Brilliant,' Todd said, grinning as he poked one of the orbs, which bounced away with a lazy _blub._

Excited, Maggie produced her own wand. She still felt a bit hazy, but her mind was buzzing with this new information. 'What kind of magic does my wand lend itself to?'

'Aaaah yes, Miss Gibson,' Todd said in a soft voice, doing an unmistakable impression of his father, eyes wide and unblinking as he took her wand from her. 'Hawthorn and phoenix feather. Nine and a quarter inches. Little, but fierce. And you're left-handed, like me.'

Maggie blinked. 'Can you tell that... just by looking at it?' she said incredulously.

'Nah — well — I might've been able to guess if I didn't already know, but I've heard your wand details about a half-dozen times. Whenever my dad talks about people, he always mentions their name, then rattles off their wand specs. It's… er… it's a bit weird.'

Maggie laughed. 'Geniuses get to be a bit eccentric, though, don't they?'

'Yeah, I dunno,' Todd said, squeezing one eye shut and peering down the length of her wand with his other eye. 'Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal dad.' He performed a few spells — he levitated the chair at his desk, then sent it spinning on its axis. He charmed one of his magazines to flutter around the room, bird-like. He conjured a sprig of some sort of plant.

'Olive branch,' he said, handing it to her.

'Cheeky,' she said, smirking.

'Yeah, I'm witty like that.' He was working quickly now, nullifying charms as quickly as he cast them. He made a burst of light explode from her wand that disappeared in a flash. He recreated her mirror charm that she'd performed during her interview. It appeared in front of her face with a crack, blocking her view of him, but it was gone as soon as he'd created it. Finally, he conjured a blue fire that he held in his hand for a moment, and with a twist of his wrist, it was gone.

'If I had to guess,' he said, handing her wand back to her, 'and this _is_ just a guess — I'd say that this wand lends itself to light-bending, light-manipulation spells, that sort of thing. Room-darkening spells, your intriguing little _Refringe Lumen_ spell. Stuff like that.'

'Oh.' Her face fell a little bit. 'I guess I always assumed I was good at those spells because… _I_ was good. Not because of my wand.'

'Nope. Just your wand. Nothing to do with you whatsoever.'

Maggie looked at him uncertainly, and he smiled apologetically. 'I'm taking the piss. You know. Because you're an extremely talented witch? Sorry, I would've thought that was obvious.'

There was a soft knock at the door, and Todd jerked around. Mr Ollivander opened the door, poking his head in and giving his son a disapproving look.

'Todd, what are you still doing in here?' he said sharply. 'Miss Gibson needs rest. Surely you've had enough time to speak to her.'

'Sorry,' Todd said, hurriedly freezing the floating orbs of water back into their original shards and handing the cold compress back to Maggie. 'Keep that on your head as long as you can.' He grabbed a blanket from the top of the wardrobe, extinguished the lanterns in the room and bid her goodnight, his dad urging him through the door as he closed it.


	17. Enchanting

Todd's hand hovered over the ledger book, the ink on his quill going dry. He kept glancing at the door, waiting for Maggie to arrive. He was eager to continue smoothing things over with her. The information that she'd shared with him about how Muggle-borns were treated these days — how _she_ had been treated — was enlightening, disheartening, and had made him feel about three feet tall for behaving the way he had.

So what if she fancied someone else? So what if she was better liked at the shop? These things that he'd been stewing over for a year seemed so petty now. An Ollivander's apprentice had been hexed in the middle of Gringotts simply for holding a wad of Muggle money, and Todd would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to make sure that it didn't happen again.

Todd hadn't realised how badly things were deteriorating. It was as if the darkness that used to be confined to Knockturn Alley was seeping slowly into Diagon Alley before his eyes, and his heart ached to see his little strip of town that he'd called home his whole life slipping slowly into You-Know-Who's grasp. His heart ached for Maggie as well, for what she had to endure. He'd thought that she had everything — popularity, looks, brains, talent — but he realised now it'd been incredibly stupid of him to think that the life of a Muggle-born was easy during the Wizarding War. To think that he had compounded her suffering made him feel deeply ashamed of himself.

Todd heard the familiar tapping on the window, and he exhaled slowly before he strode to the door and used his wand to unlock it. He usually turned away or slammed the door without greeting her — god, it was no bloody wonder Maggie'd tried to blow his head off — but now he stood at the door, smiling uncertainly as she dried herself off from the Thief's Downfall.

'Hullo Maggie,' he said cheerfully.

'Hi Todd,' she said, raising an eyebrow.

'How are you feeling? Better?' he asked, shutting the door gently behind her.

'Much better,' she said. 'The pain and the dizziness were all gone by the morning.'

'Just like you,' Todd said, smiling. 'You gave my dad — who made breakfast for you, by the way — a bit of a heart attack when we found you'd gone from the room. I told him I didn't even hear you leave, and he thought you might've Disapparated. Spent the rest of the morning checking the protective spells.'

'Oh no!' Maggie said, her face falling. 'I'm so sorry! I was thinking that Simon would be worried. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. And you were still asleep on the sofa when I left, I didn't want to wake you.'

'Don't worry about it. I _told_ him that you'd probably just snuck down the staircase. I hope that your brother wasn't too —' But he didn't get to finish his sentence. He and Maggie both yelped as a large stack of empty wand boxes, which Todd had absentmindedly been leaning on, came down with a tremendous crash.

'For fuck's sake,' Todd muttered, taking out his wand to sort everything. Right. Good to know that he was still only capable of two different roles around Maggie — nervous idiot or snarly arsehole. He'd forgotten that he'd partly picked up the latter personality to distance himself from the former.

Maggie waved her wand at the same time he did, and the stack snapped back into place so forcefully from their combined spells it was if the boxes were magnetised.

'Well, Mist — erm, I mean — Coakley's probably waiting for me.'

'Right.' Todd grinned at Maggie's attempt to drop the _mister_ , and she rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. 'All right. I'll see you around, then.'

She made her way to the back, but she paused in the entrance to the corridor, her hand on the wall of the threshold, watching Todd as he returned to the ledger book to try to attempt to actually get some work done for the evening.

'You know — it shouldn't be too hard to have the books done automatically, by magic, while you and your dad sell wands to customers,' she said. 'I mean, it would be a little tricky to work out, but I'm sure you could manage it.'

Todd shrugged and made an _eh_ noise. 'Perhaps. I'd be worried about errors, though.'

Maggie waved that off. 'Sure, but you could always just look over the books at the end of the day to make sure they were right, and it would take a fraction of the time that it takes you to go through the receipts and tally everything on your own.'

'That's true… but this summer might not be the best time to try it. It's supposed to be a punishment, having me do this every day. I'm not sure my dad would be thrilled.'

Maggie shrugged. 'I've found that people in charge often appreciate it if you've handled a task in a clever way.'

'That's not been my experience,' Todd said, smirking. 'Whenever I handle something in a clever way, I usually get told to stop being smart.'

Maggie sidled up beside him behind the counter, and she took the quill from his hand and examined it and the ledger book closely. Todd gave a small, inward sigh. Bollocks. There it was — the odd, familiar prickling that he used to feel when she would get close to him. He was going to have to work harder to shake his feelings for her if this friendship of theirs was going to work.

'I'm going to have a go at charming the quill, so that it's enchanted to do the work,' she said. 'Is that OK?'

'All right.'

She pointed her wand at the swan feather quill and muttered, _'Vivere,'_ moving her wand through the air as if she were carefully whisking something in a bowl. The quill twitched nervously on the page, and she waved her left hand slowly as she continued to move her wand in her right hand, urging the quill up. It eventually got to its feet, so to speak, so that it was poised on the page, and she bent down to speak to it.

'Hello there,' she said. 'How would you feel about tallying the sales in this shop —'

'— and the inventory —' Todd cut in quietly, smiling slightly.

'— and the inventory, as we go?' she said.

It seemed eager and willing, hopping on the page a bit.

'It makes the most sense to have it tally everything in the moment, rather than the end of the day, so if you could pretend to —'

'Way ahead of you,' said Todd, who was already in the shelves, pulling a random wand box down. 'Miss Gibson, thank you for choosing to do your shopping at Ollivander's today. This is an elm wand with a dragon heartstring core, twelve and three-quarter inches long, so that'll be seven Galleons.'

'Make it less,' she whispered nervously, 'I haven't got seven Galleons.'

'On second thought,' continued Todd, who was trying not to laugh, 'you _are_ a friend of mine, so I'm willing to give you a discount. A couple of Knuts will do.'

Maggie produced two Knuts from her handbag, and Todd took them, watching the quill carefully as he handed her the box. It dipped itself in the ink jar and returned to the page nervously, scribbling something completely illegible before digging its tip into the page so forcefully that it ripped.

'That's all right, that's all right,' Todd told the quill quickly, taking out his wand as Maggie winced and apologised. 'That's an admirable first try, mate, better than I did the first time I wrote something in my life, that's for sure.' He imbued the quill with a quick couple additional charms, increasing its likelihood it could handle concepts like the written word as well as maths, and Maggie watched him carefully as he performed the magic. 'You know, Maggie, I could use a new wand as well, now that I think of it… '

'Are you sure?' she whispered, moving hesitantly toward the shelves.

'Yeah, yeah, it's fine,' he whispered back, gesturing for her to grab a box.

'I think this one would be best for you,' she said, gingerly taking down a wand and squinting at the side of the box. 'Hazel wood and unicorn hair, nine and a third inches, light and airy —'

'Sure, if I were a girl, that wand would be best for me,' Todd said, sniggering, and Maggie kicked him with the toe of her boot. 'Ow! Jesus. Er, you know what, Maggie, I think you might be right, actually. That wand is perfect. How much is it?'

'Erm, two Sickles?'

'Two Sickles, brilliant,' Todd said, fishing in his pockets. 'This clearance sale today is utterly unprecedented. Ollivander's sells wands nearly at a loss as it is, this seems quite foolish actually… '

'You're rubbish at playing shop,' Maggie muttered, trying not to smile as she took his change and then handed him the box.

'I think you mean I'm _brilliant_ at playing shop… Cheers, Maggie. Have you got that, mate?' The quill was slowly, carefully writing _Todd G. Ollivander, hazel wood and unicorn hair, 9 1/3 inches (created 29th of February 1573), purchased 17th of August 1980_ and it etched a small '2' in the Sickle column.

'Well done!' Todd told the quill. Maggie clapped with joy as, struggling at first, it successfully flipped to the back of the ledger book and crossed off a wand listed under the year 1573.

'Maggie, I hate to do this, but I fear this wand just isn't a good match for me.'

'Oh dear.'

'Yeah, you know, it just feels a bit _feminine_ for some odd reason.'

'Really?' Maggie said crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

'Yeah, a bit too wispy for my masculine hands. I think I'm going to have to return it.'

'I'll see if I can find something with enough girth to fit your freakishly large gorilla hands.'

'Sure, but first,' Todd said, this time unable to keep from laughing, 'I'll need my two Sickles back.'

'The hell are you two dain?' Coakley said, who was standing in the hall, his arms crossed and looking at them as if they were completely mental. Turning red, Maggie swiftly handed Todd his change and he gave the wand back to her — she clearly understood the importance of not messing up the books while they did this — and Todd saw out of the corner of his eye that the quill put a line through the entry it had just made.

'I'm so sorry, Mr Coakley, I completely lost track of time,' she said scurrying out from behind the counter. 'I was helping Todd with something.'

'Yer half an ooor late,' Coakley said irritably, tapping his watch. 'We'll have tae cut lessons off at the same time as always. Betty will have my heed if I come home any later than 8.'

'Of course,' Maggie said, looking slightly abashed.

'It's not Maggie's fault, Coakley, I'm the one who held her up.'

'Aye, I donnae doubt it Todd,' Coakley said, grumbling as he led Maggie down the hall.

Todd watched her go, then returned to the ledger book. He rewrote the type of wand that had been crossed out under the year 1573 and pulled out a piece of blank parchment from a drawer. 'All right, you,' he said cheerfully. 'Let's test your maths skills, now.'

* * *

The next evening, Maggie stood, frowning, at the locked door of the Ollivander's building. Todd wasn't opening the door for her after she'd tapped on the window, then more forcefully tried knocking on the door.

She peered through the window, surprised to see the shop completely empty. With the newly enchanted quill, Todd must've finished up far earlier than usual, but that meant there was no one to unlock the door for her lessons. It hadn't occurred to her to mention this to Coakley yesterday.

Maggie racked her brains to figure out what she could do at this point. Maybe she could walk around the shop and get Coakley's attention through the windows of their lessons room? Maggie was beginning to consider the possibility of just shouting a bit — the Ollivanders did live just two floors up, after all — when the door was wrenched open suddenly. She walked through the Thief's Downfall to see Todd working to catch his breath inside the shop.

'Good, you're still here,' he said, leaning on his knees. 'I completely lost track of time… we're all… hoping to talk to you upstairs.'

'The crew?' Maggie asked as she dried herself off.

'The crew and a few others,' Todd said mysteriously, straightening up. 'Two of them I think you'll be very happy to see. The others, I'm not so sure.' He led her toward the spiral staircase, turning around to speak to her cheerily as they climbed. 'The quill's been working brilliantly. No mistakes so far. I enchanted the tape measure today as well, just out of sheer boredom. It's fun to put on a show for the Muggle-borns who come in, they get a real shock when the tape measure starts measuring them by itself. Between an enchanted quill and an enchanted tape measure, though, I may have just accidentally made myself redundant.'

As the two of them reached the third-floor flat, Maggie's jaw dropped as she saw who the 'we' was.

Not only was the majority of Ollivander's crew there, but so was Professor Dumbledore and a wizard with a wooden leg and a glass eye who looked even more grizzled than Coakley. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, two former Gryffindors who had both finished Hogwarts, were also there, and to Maggie's greatest shock —

'Maggie!' Alice and Frank both looked exceptionally tired but extremely happy to see her.

'What the — what on _earth_ are you two doing here?'

'Well we can't stay long, of course,' Alice said, 'but we couldn't miss this. Augusta's watching Neville while we're here.'

That didn't really answer Maggie's question, and she peered around in shock at the people in the room.

'Miss Gibson,' Dumbledore said, smiling, 'we have a terribly impertinent request that I hope you'll consider.'


	18. The Order of the Phoenix

Simon yelped, and a plate of food shattered as he dropped it in shock. Maggie had Apparated directly into the living room of their flat, and despite Simon's insistence that he didn't have a problem with her 'evaporating' directly inside, it was clear that he still wasn't quite used to it.

'Christ, Maggie, there isn't any way you can give me some sort o' warning that you're coming?' he said irritably, bending down to pick up the pieces of the plate. 'You're lucky I'm wearing trousers, you weren't supposed to be 'ome till late!'

'We've got to ready the place for guests,' Maggie said, slightly panicky. 'A bunch of important wizards will be here tonight, and we've got to tidy up.'

'What?' Simon gaped at her in disbelief. 'You can't be serious.'

Maggie tried to gather her thoughts as she lunged toward the window, pulling in the items on the clothesline that stretched across the alley and connected to the other building across the way.

'And why, exactly, did you invite a bunch o' important wizards to our flat?'

'Dumbledore asked if they could use our place for a meeting,' she said, moving toward the sink of dirty dishes. 'There's a secret society that wants to talk with the wandsmiths at Ollivander's about security concerns they have.'

Simon followed her into the kitchen, staring at her incredulously. 'And there's nowhere else they could 'ave their top-secret meeting other than our flat?'

'They're worried that their other meeting locations have been compromised,' she said as she scrubbed. 'Information's been leaking out. They're worried that You-Know-Who's followers are somehow listening in. They said a Muggle flat would be safe because it's a place they've never used before, and it's inconspicuous.'

''ow many people are we talking 'ere?' Simon asked, turning off the water that Maggie was absentmindedly allowing to run.

A soapy dish in her hand, she counted everyone she had just seen in the workshop. 'About fifteen.'

 _'Fifteen?!'_ Simon started laughing. 'Maggie, we can barely squeeze five people in 'ere on a good day!'

Maggie waved him away, not looking up. 'Dumbledore can fix that. Temporary extension charm, he said. Oh, for god's sakes, what am I doing, I can use magic for all of this!'

Frowning, Simon watched her scurry about the flat, using decluttering and cleaning charms. Finally, he seemed to resign himself to the matter, and sighed. 'Will they expect us to feed 'em?'

Maggie stopped for a second, thinking. 'Er, probably just tea. Maybe sandwiches.'

 _'Oh, just tea. Maybe sandwiches,'_ Simon mimicked sarcastically, grabbing his trenchcoat off a hook on the wall. 'I'll run to Sainsbury's, then,' he grumbled, turning up the collar.

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank you, Simon.' She paused, smiling, to watch him as he grabbed things, preparing to leave. 'I'll make it up to you!' she said apologetically as he opened the door.

He raised a sceptical eyebrow and grunted. As he left, she could hear him muttering to himself about why 'bloody wizards can't just conjure their own bloody sandwiches?' as he trudged down the corridor.

* * *

Maggie was slightly out of breath as she brought Miss Kim into her flat. She'd had to transport nearly every single guest, one by one, via side-along Apparition as no one but Frank and Alice had been there before.

It was the most bizarre sight, seeing Mr Ollivander, Professor Dumbledore, Coakley, Watts, Todd, Will, Sana, Remus, Sirius, Alice, Frank, Miss Kim, and the grizzled wizard who Maggie now knew was an Auror named Alastor Moody inside her flat. At first glance, Maggie and Simon's humdrum living room seemed no different than usual, but the entire crowd somehow all fit with room to spare. Dumbledore had conjured a number of armchairs that some of them had settled into.

A few people surveyed the flat with interest, examining the phone, the radio, the lamps, the record player. Maggie chewed the inside of her mouth nervously. It was incredibly odd, seeing wizards in robes that were draped over her exceptionally ordinary sofa, their odd-shaped boots restlessly tapping on the floor that she and Simon didn't clean frequently enough.

She left the living room where most people were gathering to check on Simon in the kitchen, who was with Todd, Alice and Frank. Todd seemed more intrigued by the Muggle devices than anyone else who'd arrived. He watched Simon pour hot water from the kettle into a dozen mugs that were all clustered together so he could keep the kettle plugged into the wall.

'Is that heated via electricity?' Todd asked as Simon set the kettle down. 'Blimey, that's fascinating.' Simon looked at Todd as if he were completely mental, an expression that only deepened as Todd touched the fridge curiously and asked, 'This is massive, what's this for?'

The situation was so absurd and amusing that Maggie temporarily forgot her nervousness and began to giggle. 'Todd, haven't you taken Muggle Studies? Sana told me you took an interest in Muggle inventors years ago.'

'Yeah, but so much of the class is theoretical since you can't actually bring most Muggle technology into Hogwarts without it exploding,' he said, now examining the buttons on the hob and then peering at the washing machine with interest. 'I mean, I can tell you how these things are powered. The power outlets create the electromotive force that push the electrons through the power cord into an alternating current that manages to power the appliances.'

Now Maggie, Simon, Alice and Frank were all staring, dumbfounded, at Todd.

'So you're tellin' me that you know 'ow this _works_ ,' Simon said, opening the fridge door, 'but you dunno what it _is_?'

'Yes, all thanks to Charity Bur — oh, it keeps things _cold!_ ' Todd said, eagerly placing his hand inside to touch a bottle of milk. 'Curious, curious... Of course! Muggles can't charm things to stay cold, after all. Do you have another electric cupboard like this that keeps things hot?'

''oo the hell did you just bring into our 'ome?' Simon muttered to Maggie, who grinned at him.

'Todd Ollivander,' he said earnestly, offering his hand. 'You must be Simon, I assume.'

'Oh. So you're Todd,' Simon said darkly. He ignored Todd's outstretched hand and placed the teacups and mugs on a tray, carrying things out to the living room.

'Do Muggles not shake hands?' Todd whispered nervously to Frank as Simon left the kitchen.

'Oh, they do,' Frank said, shooting an amused look at Alice that she returned.

'Did you tell your brother that...' Todd began uneasily, but he was cut off by Mr Ollivander, who was urging the four of them into the living room so they could start the meeting.

Todd took a seat next to his father on the Gibsons' slightly shabby sofa, while Maggie, Alice, Frank and Simon stood. Sirius Black picked up a teacup. 'Got anything stronger, by any chance?'

Simon's eyebrows shot up. 'Just a small bottle of whisky.'

'Ah,' Sirius said, looking at Simon hopefully, but Simon merely stared back at Sirius, eyebrows still raised and arms crossed.

'I was planning on keeping that for meself.'

'Oh,' Sirius said. 'Right.' He paused for a beat before taking a sip of his tea. Remus snorted. Sirius gave Remus a _sheesh_ look over his teacup.

'Thank you, Mr Gibson,' Dumbledore said, smiling over his halfmoon glasses. 'We won't overstay our welcome any longer than is necessary. Garrick, I wanted to gather you all together to discuss something that we've been discussing privately for a while now and that I believe is worth discussing on a slightly larger scale: We believe that Voldemort is planning to attack Ollivander's again.'

The atmosphere suddenly became tense, but no one seemed particularly shocked by this statement. Simon, brow furrowed, moved in to whisper a question to Maggie, but she put a hand on his arm. 'Later,' she murmured.

'While I'm sure this information doesn't come as a surprise to any of you,' Dumbledore continued, 'it is undoubtedly disturbing. Luckily, we in the Order have come up with a potential plan, something that may discourage Voldemort from even attempting to take over the shop. You all may be averse to the idea at first, but I urge you to allow us to make our case. I believe we can convince you. Sirius?'

'Remus and I were the ones who first came up with the idea,' Sirius said, beginning to explain. 'We were discussing recently how Voldemort feels something for Ollivander's that he doesn't feel for any other enemy of his: reverence. Voldemort obtained his current wand from Ollivander's, which he still uses to this day, and Dumbledore has said he strongly believes that Voldemort has immense respect for venerated magical institutions like Ollivander's.'

'Which gives you incredible leverage,' Remus cut in. 'It means that Voldemort doesn't want to kill any of you, not only because of your advanced understanding of wandlore but also because he has no desire whatsoever to destroy the institution you're part of.'

'He only wants to control it,' Sirius said.

'Which makes it likely that he would use one or both of his two favourite methods of control: the Imperius Curse and the Cruciatus Curse,' Remus said darkly.

'We've been over all of this,' Mr Ollivander said wearily. 'The Thief's Downfall guards against the Imperius Curse.'

'Absolutely,' Remus said with a quick nod. 'So that means that, likely, the only way he could force you to do his bidding would be through the Cruciatus Curse.'

Coakley laughed. Maggie turned toward him, startled by his reaction to such a terrifying prediction. 'You think any of us would break under torture? Do you think my face looks like this,' he said, gesturing forcefully to the patchy burn mark, 'because I'm weak? You think Haeyoun lost over half her fingers because she is easily broken? This is what survivors look like.'

The wandsmiths, Todd included, nodded grimly. Maggie noticed that the only person who didn't nod in agreement was Mr Ollivander.

'It doesn't really matter whether any of you would actually break under pressure or not,' Frank said quietly. 'We know from experience that Voldemort believes that people do break under torture. And neither you, nor the wizarding world, will be in a good position if some of you have been tortured into insanity.'

An uneasy silence descended on the room again. Finally, Miss Kim spoke up.

'Well?' she said. 'What is your solution then?'

'Make each person on your crew take an Unbreakable Vow,' Sirius said, and Remus nodded with him. 'Swear that you will never, ever stop selling wands to Muggle-borns who display magical talent.'

Seconds passed as incredulous expressions of disbelief slowly formed on the faces of the Ollivander's crew. Finally, the silence broke in one sudden, incredible ruckus of scoffs, laughter, and frantic, rapid side conversations.

'This meeting is over,' Watts announced angrily over the din as he rose from his armchair. 'Looks like we'll have to come up with a plan of our own, everyone, because the Order of the Phoenix clearly wishes us dead.'

Mr Ollivander and Miss Kim were speaking to each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. Will and Coakley were both laughing incredulously. Sana was shouting something, looking angry and insulted. Todd had removed his glasses and was rubbing his face, speechless.

'Your concerns are understandable,' Dumbledore said loudly, 'but, I assure you, this plan would be quite effective. You would, of course, make it publicly known that you all had taken this Vow. Any plans the Death Eaters have to control you would have to be scrapped. There simply could not be any successful outcome. The Death Eaters would be forced to turn their attentions elsewhere.'

'Unless they _do_ want to kill us,' Todd cried, 'at which point you will have made it laughably easy for them! All the Death Eaters would have to do is pop by and Imperiuse us for sixty seconds, to have us all put up one of those disgusting "NO MUDBLOODS" signs, then let the Unbreakable Vow commit a nice, clean, shop-wide murder!'

'If they wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead!' Sirius shouted, but his statement only made the indignant chatter louder.

'Voldemort doesn't want to rule over a world without Ollivander's!' Remus said, his hoarse voice straining over the noise. 'He believes all wizardkind would be worse off for it!'

'I'm no' willing tae bet my life on that!' Coakley said angrily. 'At least while we can defend Ollivander's, he will fear us, which will discourage him from attacking. With a reckless Unbreakable Vow like that, it would be too bloody tempting for him tae wipe us all oot and allow Gregorovitch tae supply all of Britain's wands, under whatever rules Voldemort dictates!'

Moody banged his walking stick into the Gibson's floor three times, loudly, and the noise finally quieted.

'I've got to get one of those,' Maggie heard Coakley mutter to Sana.

'Liam won't be happy about that,' Simon said nervously to Maggie, referring to their downstairs neighbour.

'There is another option,' Moody growled. 'You don't all necessarily have to take the vow.'

'What?' Will asked, baffled and taken aback. 'If he can still take control of some of us, then what's the point?'

'My understanding,' Moody said, 'is that there are only two people at the shop who actually _sell_ the wands.'

Any lingering mutterings and scoffing instantly stopped. It was now deadly quiet again. Todd and his father were now so pale that their silvery eyes seemed to almost glitter against their bloodless complexions.

'And besides,' Dumbledore finished quietly, 'if Voldemort were to force someone at the wandshop to do his bidding, he wouldn't want just any wandsmith. He'd want an Ollivander.'

Each crew member seemed unable to respond or move — except Watts, who was still shaking his head. 'It's a terrible plan,' Watts said bitterly.

'It's not,' Todd cut in quietly. 'That _would_ protect the principles that Ollivander's stands for. We do, after all, plan to continue selling to Muggle-borns for the rest of our lives. But if the Death Eaters used an Unbreakable Vow about it against us —'

'— which I do not think they would —' Dumbledore reiterated.

'— then Ollivander's could continue under Haeyoun, or Jack, or a number of others,' Mr Ollivander finished weakly.

'You-Know-Who will have thought he'd won,' Todd said softly. 'But he'd be wrong.'

'Indeed,' Dumbledore said. 'Voldemort, like many wizards, believes that ancient bloodlines are a crucial element of powerful magic. When, of course, it's irrelevant.'

Watts strode over to the Ollivanders and stood behind the sofa where they sat, as if acting as their ward. 'No,' he said firmly. 'They're not doing this.'

'They have some time to consider it,' Dumbledore said placatingly. 'As far as we know, the plan to attack is not imminent. But we do need to act with some urgency. And I will reiterate: I believe this Vow will protect the Ollivanders, not endanger them. Lord Voldemort obtained his wand years ago from Ollivander's.' Maggie noticed the two Ollivanders cast their silvery eyes downward, aware of the responsibility that they bore in arming some of the most evil wizards in the world. 'I do not believe that he has any interest whatsoever in destroying it.'

* * *

'What do you make of all of this?' Maggie asked Alice and Frank, her brow furrowed in scepticism and her arms crossed. The meeting was breaking up, but the two Ollivanders and a few members of the Order were still lingering, discussing the advantages and disadvantages of the plan.

'We weren't fans of the initial idea, that you all take an Unbreakable Vow,' Frank admitted. 'But to have just the two Ollivanders take one... From what we know, Maggie, Voldemort wants to attack soon. He usually gets what he wants. This would literally, magically keep him from getting what he wants. And Dumbledore says it would protect Ollivander's, not endanger it. Dumbledore doesn't propose this lightly. He doesn't want to see Ollivander's fall, either.'

Maggie glanced over her shoulder, across the room at the two Ollivander men, who were speaking in low voices to Dumbledore. It was interesting to see Todd and his dad standing side-by-side, discussing an issue as equals, as partners. The dynamic Maggie typically witnessed between them involved Todd being slightly headstrong and over-eager, with his father chiding his behaviour and urging him to be calm, cautious, moderate. But the gravity of this proposal seemed to have balanced them out. She saw Todd nod as his father spoke, and she saw Mr Ollivander agree to things Todd was pointing out.

'It's not surprising, but Simon looks incredibly shaken up,' Alice said softly. 'Do you think he fully understood the state of things in the wizarding world until now?'

Maggie sighed. She watched Simon clear a couple of teacups and mugs. He looked lost in thought. Maggie thought she heard a teacup clatter lightly against the tray as he placed it down, as if he were trembling, just slightly.

'Simon, I can get all that,' she called. 'It'll be faster if I do it, you don't need to bother.'

'It's fine.' He waved her away distractedly. Maggie, resigned, turned back to Alice and Frank. She was going over the specifics of how an Unbreakable Vow worked, exactly, with them, when suddenly —

'ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE, MOODY!'

Frank, Alice and Maggie whipped around. It was Todd who had bellowed out of nowhere. Todd looked pale and livid, seething, his fists clenched at his sides as Mr Ollivander and Dumbledore turned, baffled, toward Moody to see what Todd was shouting about.

'WE'RE HERE THANKS TO THE GIBSONS' HOSPITALITY!' Todd was striding toward Moody, who seemed to be discussing something with Simon. 'IF YOU DIDN'T WANT HIM TO BE PRIVVY TO THIS CONVERSATION, THEN WE SHOULD'VE HAD THIS MEETING ELSEWHERE!'

'Discretion is the entire reason we're here in the first place, Ollivander,' Moody replied, his magical glass eye spinning dangerously as he glared at Todd. 'We need to keep this conversation as private as is possible.'

Maggie saw Moody replacing his wand and saw Simon staggering with the tray, looking dazed and befuddled, and she realised what had happened. She raced to Simon's side and took the tray from him, trying not to betray the fact that she was as upset as Todd was right now.

'That was quite unnecessary, Alastor,' Dumbledore said in a soft, disapproving voice.

'What's going on?' Simon muttered. His eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing on Maggie's face. 'Maggie, 'as the meeting started yet? I — I still need to make the tea, I... fink...'

'I think it's a good idea if you leave, Moody,' Frank said curtly, taking the tray from Maggie and bringing it into the kitchen.

Dumbledore and Mr Ollivander looked a bit unsure what to do. Mr Ollivander approached his son. 'We should probably go back to the shop,' he said softly to Todd.

'You can't be serious. After that? I'm staying here. I'm going to make sure he's OK.'

Mr Ollivander sighed. 'I'm terribly sorry, Miss Gibson. I do think your brother will be all right.'

'I only wiped the past hour from his mind,' Moody said to her, as if that somehow meant what he'd done was unobjectionable.

Todd helped Simon to the sofa, and he slumped into the cushions.

'Todd,' Mr Ollivander said, 'come Apparate and get us if you need anything at all.'

'Will do,' Todd said irritably. Mr Ollivander, Moody and Dumbledore Disapparated, leaving Alice, Frank, Simon, Maggie and Todd in the flat.

Todd extended his arm and snapped his fingers lightly off to the side to see if Simon responded, which he did.

'How many fingers am I holding up, mate?'

'Th-three.'

'And, tell me, what year is it?'

'Nineteen-eighty?'

'And what month is it?'

'August,' Simon said slowly.

'And who are you? What's your name?'

'Simon Gibson.'

'And who am I? Do you remember me introducing myself to you when we all first arrived?'

Simon frowned. 'Yeah... you're that wanker, Todd Ollivander.'

Everyone but Simon chuckled a little nervously at this.

'What's the last thing you remember?' Todd asked, smiling.

Simon turned toward the kitchen, looking a little disoriented. 'Bringing out the tea, I fink? Is this meeting not 'appening after all?'

Todd looked nervously up at Maggie. 'Should we tell him?'

'I'll tell him once he's a little less dazed, I think,' she said, sitting down next to Simon and rubbing his shoulder. 'Moody should've just asked him to leave if he didn't want him to be there,' she said softly. 'He'd have left. He'd have been _annoyed_ about it, definitely, but he'd have left us alone if we'd asked him to.'

Alice sighed. She was clearly upset. 'Maggie, I — I'm so, _so_ sorry, but I have to get back. Neville, he's — he's got to eat.'

Maggie laughed. 'It is _so weird_ to hear you talk about things like that. I'm still not fully capable of thinking of you as a mum.'

'Neither am I,' Alice admitted with a grin and a shrug. 'It's weird for me, too.'

'You both must be exhausted. I noticed that Lily and James aren't here, and it's probably because they've got a newborn at home too.'

'Like I said,' Alice said, smiling sadly, 'we didn't want to miss this.'

'You can all take off. I'm sure things'll be fine.'

'I'll stay for a bit longer,' Todd said, glancing up at Alice and Frank, who nodded in agreement. 'Just to make sure he's all right.'

'You don't have to.'

'I want to. Honestly, I just want to mess around with your electric kettle,' he said with a dismissive shrug, 'it's got nothing to do with you or your brother.'

Maggie laughed and hugged Alice and Frank goodbye. 'Give Neville my love.'

'I'll do that while he's screaming in my ear,' Frank said happily, and the Longbottoms both waved before turning on the spot.

* * *

Simon fiddled with a record for a bit, slipping it out of its sleeve, before he placed it on the record player. Even with access to Maggie's enchanted gramophone, he still often preferred the imperfect, crackling noises of a record. He placed the needle down, and the soulful voice of Ann Peebles began to drift through the flat.

 _I never had / A love to call my own / I was about to give up / And then you came along /_ _Just to have your tender ways /_ _Thrills me for days and days /_ _I don't care what nobody says /_ _I want you for always_

The two Gibsons knew the song well. Simon sang along and so did Maggie, one of her feet bouncing happily on the armrest of the sofa, her hands laced behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. 'Now that I've found ya. I wanna stay around ya. Oh make me yours. Make me yours.' Dumbledore's temporary extension charm and his additional armchairs had since been nullified, and the flat was as cramped as ever again. Todd was sitting on the ground, leaning up against the sofa that Maggie was on.

'You know what I could go for?' Simon asked, addressing Todd.

'What's that?'

'I've a bottle of whisky in the cupboard, and I'm more'n happy to share it.'

Todd grinned. 'I feel like that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.'

'It _is_ bloody charitable of me. Go and grab it before I change me mind.'

Todd leapt up and headed toward the kitchen.

'Is it all right that I'm getting on wiv 'im?' Simon said quietly, squinting at Maggie. Todd had explained to Simon what Moody had done to him, using a good deal of irritable, colourful language — Todd also kept calling Moody 'that bloody pirate' — that Simon had found so amusing that he had warmed to Todd somewhat. 'Because all you need to do is say the word, and I'll tell 'im to bugger off.'

'Nah, he can stick around for a bit. I don't mind.'

'Hm. Really?' Simon raised an eyebrow.

'Three glasses?' Todd returned, carrying a bottle of liquor and three glasses. 'What do you say, Maggie?'

'I say absolutely.'

'Brilliant.' Todd grinned as he placed the glasses on the living room table and poured.

'A bit less for 'er,' Simon said, carefully surveying the amount in each glass, 'and a bit more for me, if you don't mind.'

Todd dutifully obeyed, tipping some of the liquid from Maggie's glass into Simon's.

'Todd, do you want to talk about this Unbreakable Vow plan?' Maggie asked tentatively as she picked up her glass. 'How are you feeling about all of this?'

Todd took a sip, grimacing slightly as he put his glass down. 'No. Not yet. It hasn't fully sunk in yet, and, honestly, I'm not sure I want it to sink in yet. I can't... I'm not sure I can handle the thought of...' He frowned, and sighed. 'I'm just not ready to talk about it yet. Let's talk about you, Simon. What do you do for a living, mate?'

'I'm a car mechanic. I work at a garage close to 'ere.'

'Mechanic. Mechanic.' Todd turned the word over in his mouth. 'What does that mean? Does that mean you _make_ motor cars?'

Simon snorted. 'I wish. Nah, I fix 'em.'

'You _fix_ them?' Todd seemed even more impressed by this. 'That's bloody brilliant!'

'It's really not.'

'Don't be modest! Even I know how complex automobiles are. That's no small feat. Far more complex than broomsticks, I'm sure,' Todd said under his breath as he took another sip.

'Simon could've had a more white-collar job, if it weren't for me. He could've gone to university.'

'That's not true, you need to stop telling yourself that,' Simon said dismissively.

'It is true. Simon had to take me in when he was nineteen.'

'All by yourself?' Todd, taken aback, asked Simon.

'I'm not such a saint. I took care of 'er for a few years, then all the sudden she got this funny little letter. And suddenly I only 'ad to worry about 'er on 'olidays.'

'Simon always tells the story like he was happy to be rid of me,' Maggie said, smiling. 'But he did his due diligence, and then some. Demanded to see Hogwarts for himself.'

 _'You got them to show you Hogwarts?'_

'I don't understand why more parents don't demand to see it,' Simon said, shrugging, baffled. 'Even after I saw it for meself, even after Flitwick and Dumbledore showed me loads of magic, I still wasn't entirely sure it wasn't some elaborate scam. Honestly, I didn't fully believe it till we went to Diagon Alley. Till Maggie got 'er wand,' Simon said, and Todd smiled.

'When Mr Ollivander 'anded 'er that wand — it wasn't just that this shower o' sparks came outta it. It was also this feeling I got when she 'eld it, and I decided, all right. Sod it. Let's 'ope Hogwarts isn't a secret factory where they 'arvest children's organs.'

'Simon had reason to be sceptical,' Maggie said, 'even more than the average Muggle guardian. He hadn't really seen me do much unintentional magic. Our mum died when I was eight, and the trauma of it all caused my magic to sort of... shut down for a while.'

Todd suddenly choked on his whisky. He coughed as Simon came round to thump him on the back. 'Sorry mate,' Simon said, 'I know this stuff's a bit strong.'

'Your mum... died when you were eight?' Todd choked out.

'Yeah. That's when Simon had to take me in.'

Todd nodded, still coughing a bit. 'I'm guessing your accidental magic probably came barreling back when you were eleven, twelve, thirteen? Almost as if to make up for lost time?'

'Yeah,' Maggie said, surprised. 'How did you know?'

'Just a guess,' Todd mumbled, fiddling with his glass.

Simon went to check on the record player. The album had finished, and he put the record back in its sleeve and its jacket, placing it back on the shelves of his rather large music collection.

'Well you two, I fink I'm gonna call it a night.'

Todd continued to swill the remainder of his drink while he and Maggie listened to Simon wash dishes for a bit. He took a swig to finish it and stood up, walking toward the kitchen to hand his glass off to Simon.

'I think he's going to be all right,' Todd said to Maggie as he reemerged. 'I'll leave by going out the door. I'll scope out your neighbourhood, in case you ever need someone to Apparate back here.'

'There's a maintenance cupboard down the hall that I'm fond of,' Maggie said with a grin. 'I'll show you.'

She led Todd down the landing and opened the cupboard door for him.

'Oh yeah, this'll do,' Todd said, grinning as well. He stepped inside, looking carefully around, committing the image of the room to memory as Maggie leaned against the door to hold it open. Todd seemed to be... lingering? Stalling? Wanting to say something? She couldn't tell, and it was making her a bit nervous. Todd did know she was still with Robbie, didn't he?

'My mum died when I was eight too,' he finally blurted out.

Maggie blinked. 'Oh,' she said sadly. She _had_ wondered why there wasn't a Mrs Ollivander at the shop. 'I'm sorry.'

'Yeah.' Todd smiled sadly. 'People always assume that I don't want to talk about it, that I don't like to have it brought up. But, honestly, sometimes... sometimes it's all I want to talk about. I especially like talking about her, remembering her, asking what other people remember about her. Do you find that too?'

'No,' Maggie said shortly, looking at her feet. 'No, I don't like to talk about my mum at all.'

'Oh. Sorry,' Todd said, looking abashed. 'I didn't mean to — to... I'm sorry.'

'It's fine. I didn't mean to be rude. It's not you. I just... I don't want to get into it.'

'Sorry,' he repeated awkwardly. 'Well... I guess... I'll see you —'

'Is that how you knew about the unintentional magic thing? Did the same thing happen to you?'

'Oh.' Todd blinked. 'Yeah. It did.' He sighed. 'It was awful, that I stopped making magical things happen all the sudden. There was speculation that I was a Squib for a while. Years went by where I didn't show any magical ability whatsoever. After everything that had happened, I had to be anxious about that on top of everything else. And then, one day,' he continued, a small smile beginning to play on his face, 'after I had just turned eleven, the Malkins' cat got out into Muggle London, and Derek and I chased it down Charing Cross Road. Derek ran one way and I went the other to look for it, and I saw the stupid animal dart into traffic. I made half the cars on the street lift up and hover several feet in the air so I could go grab it.'

'Todd! You didn't! Oh my god!'

'I got into _so_ much trouble. Accidental magic is so much more fun in the Muggle world. In the wizarding world, no one bats an eye, but this incident caused the whole street to shut down for the rest of the day. It made it into the _Prophet_ ,' Todd said, grinning embarrassedly. 'I still have the article. " _Ollivander Heir Disrupts Muggle Rush Hour, Distresses Hundreds"._ It's just a picture of eleven-year-old me on Charing Cross Road, jumping up and down with excitement and grinning like an idiot with a cat in my arms and smoke coming out of all these slightly damaged motor cars behind me after they dropped back down.'

Maggie was doubled over, leaning against the door and laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. Todd looked sheepish but her giggles were making him laugh as well, and the two of them cracked up in the corridor of the grubby flat, annoying the neighbours with their impudently loud midnight laughter.


	19. Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions

'Miss? We're closing up in a bit.'

Maggie looked up from _The Enduring Light: The Unsung Heroes Who Resisted and Weakened Grindelwald Before His Fall_ to see that she was the only person still reading in the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. She checked her watch. Oops. That meant she'd been perusing this book for the better part of an hour and that she'd have to buy it or risk being rude. The charming small-town culture of Diagon Alley — many people in the borough had begun to recognise her as she spent her summer here, and she often greeted a half-dozen people in the street whenever she traipsed through the alley — also had its downsides.

Maggie made her way over to the counter, surreptitiously checking the price tag on the back as she placed it before the shopkeeper. Two Galleons. Maggie winced slightly.

'I haven't seen you in a while,' the bespectacled shopkeeper said cheerily as he rang her up. 'You Ollivander's lot must've just gotten a break from whatever time-consuming work you've been up to. I haven't seen Todd in here for ages either, and he's usually in here every other day. He's only just started coming in again as well.'

Maggie smiled to herself. Well, that was a shame that they'd _both_ been avoiding the bookshop since the incident in which Maggie'd overheard Todd complaining about her. Maybe they should've worked out a timetable or something — she could've got Mondays and Fridays, he could've got Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Her new book in hand, Maggie walked out into the humid evening. The smell of impending rain was in the air, and she could sense her hair frizzing just standing here. She lingered on the cobbled road, postponing the moment before she turned on the spot. There was nothing more convenient than Apparation, that was for sure, but it was weird to suddenly have transit cut out of your life. There was no thoughtful, decompressing time between activities. Maybe Maggie could leave a change of Muggle clothes at Ollivander's, for times that she fancied a moment to herself with a book during the bus ride home.

But, she thought with a sigh, that would mean walking from Ollivander's to the Leaky Cauldron without her Shield Charm robes. Even though she hadn't been attacked again — at Gringotts or otherwise — she'd taken a lot of comfort in knowing that she was somewhat protected as long as she was wearing them, and she'd become a bit reluctant to travel through Diagon Alley without them.

As if she'd jinxed the moment by thinking about being hexed, Maggie suddenly felt a soft pressure bounce off her robes and she whirled around, wide-eyed and wand in hand, but she relaxed immediately — if not without slight exasperation — to see Todd grinning at her about five shops away.

'My Shield Charm appears to be holding up well!' he shouted from down the road. 'Otherwise you'd be puking up slugs right now!'

'I see. Was this all an elaborate ruse so you could send hexes my way?' Maggie said as she made her way toward him, her emerald green robes rippling softly in the light wind as she made her way toward the wizard in robes of the same colour. 'Get back at me for the duel?'

'I promise if any of them ever hit, you're allowed to hex me with one of those particularly sinister curses you were casting my way when we duelled,' Todd said, still grinning as he took off his glasses to clean the lenses that were fogging up in the humidity. There was a mid-sized wooden crate at his feet.

'What's that for?'

'Well, Maggie,' he said, replacing his glasses, 'you can take Todd Ollivander out of the pub, but you can't take the pub out of Todd…' He frowned. 'Well, that doesn't really make sense. How about this? Sometimes, if you can't go to the pub, you have to bring the pub to you. That's not really how that phrase goes either, but you get the gist. And that's what I'm doing,' he said, kicking the crate lightly with the toe of his boot. 'I'm going to see Derek right now.'

'Is there beer in there?'

'Yep. Twenty-four bottles of the finest Goblin-made ale the Leaky Cauldron has to offer,' he said happily.

'Twenty-four bottles? How many people is that for?'

'Well, I just said, didn't I? Derek and me.'

'Just Derek and you?' Maggie repeated incredulously. 'You got twenty-four bottles just for Derek and you?'

'Well, that's how many come in a crate.'

'Please tell me the two of you aren't going to drink all of that tonight.'

Todd surveyed the crate appraisingly. 'Nah. We'll probably finish it over the course of two or three days.'

'All right,' Maggie said dubiously. 'Well… have fun. Don't die.'

He grinned slyly. 'It's a little too soon for that joke, wouldn't you say?'

'Todd!' Maggie said, slightly horrified. 'Todd, I — I was just joking about, you know, drinking yourself to death, I wasn't referring to the Unbreakable —'

'Shhhhh.' Todd waved at her, looking around nervously. 'No need for that plan to get out, not yet. Especially if we don't end up going through with it.'

'Sorry.'

'I'll be honest, that delightful little plot is part of the reason I'm doing this tonight. I need to take my mind off things. I don't know if you've noticed, but I can get a little… tightly wound sometimes.'

'I have noticed that,' she said wryly.

'So, you know. I need to relax right now. I've been hyperventilating while I've been cooped up in that building —' he gestured to Ollivander's across the way '— for the past two days, and I need a distraction.'

'You certainly deserve that,' Maggie said. 'Well, have a good time. Not _too_ good a time —'

'If you're so concerned about the state of my liver,' Todd interrupted, 'you _could_ join us. Help us drink this. What do you say?'

Maggie hesitated, trying to figure out if he was just being friendly, or if he was trying it on. As if reading her thoughts, Todd interjected, 'Of course, Robbie is welcome as well.' He genuinely seemed to mean it. Sort of.

Maggie peered suspiciously at Todd. 'Really?'

'Of course.'

She thought for a moment. 'Robbie's been working late with his dad these days, I've really only been able to have him to myself on weekends. But, sure, I'd love to join.'

'Brilliant.' Todd levitated the crate at his side, and it suddenly began to rain. 'C'mon.'

The two of them hurried down the alley in the direction of Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, which was about a dozen shops down the way. Todd held his hat in place while he jogged. Maggie didn't like to put the hood of her robes up. It made her look even more like a certain Hogwarts ghost, a resemblance that people often took note of and which spurred rumours that Maggie had worked on her own so desperately to confirm that she'd essentially... well, ended up essentially disproving them, based on what she'd found out. Discovering the truth had depressed her so entirely that she hated when people still speculated, hated that she had to just sit there and listen without correcting them due to the vague, elevated respect she garnered from the rumours.

However, Maggie knew that if she just let the rain fall into her curls that her hair would soon expand into an enormous frizzy mess, so she begrudgingly pulled her hood up. Todd halted suddenly in the street, cursing.

'Fleance,' he muttered, locking eyes with a very miserable-looking grey cat that was attempting in vain to stay dry by crouching under an awning. 'Do you mind grabbing him? That's the Malkins' cat. I can't hold him and hold this charm at the same time, he's going to wiggle too much.'

Maggie ran over to the cat, who gave an indignant _meow_ as she scooped him up. He was indeed quite wiggly. He didn't like that he was now getting wetter than he had been previously, and Maggie wasn't able to shield him from the rain very effectively. Todd and Maggie approached Madam Malkin's shop and stood at the door.

'So, how do people announce their presence to people in these Diagon Alley flats anyway?' Maggie asked, remembering that she'd been befuddled by a locked Ollivander's door a couple days ago. 'How do you tell people you're here without a doorbell? Or a buzzer?'

Todd looked a bit puzzled. 'A doorbell? Well, the door's locked, so the bell won't jingle, because you can't open it,' he said as he used his wand to shoot off a silver firework that burst in front of the Malkins' second-story window. 'Is that what you mean by doorbell? And what use would you have with a buzzard?'

'Never mind,' Maggie said, grinning, as she watched the sparks shower down. Derek opened the window, his head poking out.

'Malkin! I come bearing gifts!' Todd shouted up at him enthusiastically, having to hurriedly re-cast the levitation charm before the crate hit the ground as he accidentally broke the charm while sweeping his arms out. 'I have enough beer to get us pissed for days, I've got your stupid cat, and I've brought —'

'Rowena!' Derek shouted brightly, grinning at Maggie. 'I can't believe my eyes!' Derek darted away, and Maggie turned wearily toward Todd.

'He's not going to call me that all night, is he?'

'I'll make sure he doesn't,' Todd said, a note of concern in his voice as he eyed her carefully.

Derek opened the front door, and Todd and Maggie rushed inside to get out of the rain. Months of walking under a Thief's Downfall meant that the two of them could each perform a perfect Drying Charm in a half-second, and Maggie and Todd both hit Fleance with the same drying spell as he jumped out of Maggie's arms.

'Well, well. Mr Ollivander and Margaret Gibson have buried the hatchet. I didn't think I'd live to see the day.'

'Todd has,' Maggie said airily. 'I never had a hatchet to bury.'

'I think you would've come at me with it if you did,' Todd said, raising his eyebrows slightly and working to suppress a smile.

Maggie looked around the darkened robe shop. She hadn't been in here in a couple of years. To save money, she simply bought her Hogwarts robes big and hemmed them as she grew. There were a couple of footstools in the middle of the room, where witches and wizards got fitted. The walls were covered with yards of silk and wool of all colours, waiting to be selected and turned into robes. There were racks of dress robes throughout the shop, witches' robes on one side of the room, wizards' robes on the other. Cloaks were in the back, less prominently displayed now that it was summer. Accessories like hats and gloves were scattered in different corners. Wooden mannequins modeling robes were posed in different positions. One of them... sort of seemed to be...

'Well done, Malkin, is this your work?' Todd said, surveying the mannequin that was clearly making a rude gesture. Its left hand was balled into a fist, with its right hand placed firmly into the crook of its left arm. Todd swept his fist toward the mannequin, imitating the gesture back at it with a grin.

'Mum hasn't noticed for _two days_.'

'She'll kill you when she does.'

'Well, we're talking about it, aren't we? That's excellent marketing, in my opinion, these navy blue dress robes will be flying off the racks,' Derek said, giving the mannequin a hearty clap on the shoulder. 'All right you two, less talking more drinking. What do you say, Rowena?'

'Maggie, can you levitate this up the stairs?' Todd said, gesturing to the crate. 'I'm just going to have a word with Derek.'

Todd pointed out the staircase down a corridor in the back of the shop, and Maggie summoned the crate to her and brought it toward the back. She felt a little embarrassed, assuming Todd was going to talk to Derek about her little nickname, and her assumption was confirmed as she caught the beginning of their whispered conversation.

'Malkin,' Maggie overheard Todd say in a low voice, 'don't call her Rowena. I'm serious. She doesn't like it.'

'She doesn't like being told she looks like a lovely renown witch from an ancient house? Why not!'

'I don't know. Probably for the same reason that I've told you that I don't like it when you say Maggie looks like Rowena Ravenclaw. Anyway, the reason doesn't matter — she doesn't like it, so cut it out.'

Maggie felt a wave of gratitude toward Todd and she moved quickly up the stairs, the crate bobbing ahead of her as she did.

The Malkins had a more typical staircase (compared to the 'bloody work hazard' at Ollivander's), with five steps heading in one direction before you turned to the left and climbed five more steps. There was also another more typical feature at the top of the stairs — a door. Maggie'd always thought it odd that there was no barrier blocking the Ollivanders' private living quarters as you climbed their spiral staircase.

But this meant that Maggie felt a bit awkward, standing at the top of the stairs and wondering whether it was OK to just barge in. She tentatively opened the door, and gave an awkward, involuntary 'Oh!' as she saw the squat witch dressed in all mauve known as Madam Malkin puttering around in the kitchen.

'Sorry!' Maggie said, realising she'd been extremely rude. 'I should've knocked, I didn't realise the door opened right into your home. I'm — I'm here with —'

'With Todd? No need to be shy, dear, I saw his signature firework out the window,' the witch said with a warm smile. 'Come in, come in!'

Maggie levitated the crate inside, hoping Madam Malkin didn't think it was her idea to bring this much beer here.

'You must be Maggie Gibson,' Madam Malkin said. 'Todd's said such wonderful things about you.'

'Has he?' she said, a bit dubious.

'Said you're one of the brightest witches of your age he's ever met! No small compliment, either, coming from Todd Ollivander. Come here, dear, let's see how these robes of yours are holding up. Raise up your arms now, that's right. Lovely, lovely. I have to say, I'm never fond of fitting robes simply based on measurements alone, but these turned out wonderfully. Now... that's odd... there's something curious about the fabric here, why is it...?'

'It's saturated with a Shield Charm,' said Todd, who was now standing at the top of the stairs with Derek at his side.

'Always looking out for others,' Madam Malkin said with a bit of motherly pride as she patted Todd's arm, and he bent down to give her a side kiss in greeting. 'Working with John Watts to bolster the protective charms at the shops round Diagon Alley, teaching the shopkeepers basic defence spells. I can't imagine there's a soul in Diagon Alley who Todd has ever been unhelpful toward during this terrible war.'

'I... have my unhelpful moments sometimes.'

'Now _these_ robes,' Madam Malkin said, making light _tsk_ noises as she raised Todd's arms up and examined the fabric closely, 'are looking a bit worn-out. You've stopped growing — finally! — so you've stopped buying new robes, Todd dear, and it's showing.'

'I think they're fine,' Todd said, looking down at his clothing, though he seemed to be enjoying the doting.

'You'll need to look smart, if you want to win back a certain someone.'

Todd rolled his eyes and sighed wearily. 'I don't want to win Deirdre back, Madam Malkin. You've got to let go of the idea that we're meant to be.'

Madam Malkin wouldn't leave the three of them alone until Todd agreed to show up for a re-fitting tomorrow, and Derek eventually had to elbow Todd in the ribs before he made plans to show up in the afternoon, massaging his abdomen, and Madam Malkin instructed them to come find her if they lit the shop on fire, since she'd be wearing her earmuffs to bed tonight with them drinking in the kitchen. Maggie wasn't entirely sure if she was joking or not.

Derek cracked the crate open with a tap of his wand, and Todd grabbed pint glasses and snacks from the cupboard. The prospect of drinking had put Todd into a livelier mood than Maggie'd ever seen him in before. With Derek by his side and the expectation that he'd be downing ale soon, Todd was downright gregarious — a word that, a week ago, Maggie would have never used to describe Todd Ollivander — and Maggie had to admit that he was a delightful half of the double-act that he and Derek made up.

'Noo hen,' Todd said, shoving a Marmite stick into the side of his mouth and taking on Coakley's brogue as he opened three bottles and poured each one into a separate pint glass as Derek lounged, grinning, at the table, 'I cannae be arsed tae tell ye the myriad pitfalls o' drinking the night away without purpose, but it's a bloody liberty how many youths fritter away their lives, tossing back ale and firewhisky with nae _focus_ in their lives.'

'Nae discipline!' Derek with a bang of his fist on the table.

'Nae direction!'

'Nae ambition, nae aspiration!'

'Therefore, darlin', we must spend tonight in a meaningful way,' Todd said solemly. 'We must find a purpose.'

'An aim.'

'Aye. A goal. We must use this time we have,' Todd said waving the Marmite stick in the exact same way Coakley gesticulated with his pipe, 'tae practise your magic, tae hone your skills as an enchantress, as a future wandsmith. And, therefore, I've a proposal: Have you ever played Exploding Swig before?'

'Can't say that I have.'

'Well!' Derek banged his fists on the table. 'Then that settles it, we must remedy that immediately, mustn't we, Ollivander?'

Todd had already produced and was shuffling a deck of Exploding Snap cards. 'Indeed we must, Malkin.'

'The rules are simple,' Derek said. 'You draw one card at a time; there's a different rule for each card. For a Phoenix, you'll pick someone to be your mate who has to take a drink every time you do. If you get a Cyclops, that's a drink just for you. A Giant Squid means everyone at the table takes a drink. If you draw a Manticore, that's when everything goes tits up. You've got to down your whole drink and basically start again. If you draw a Centaur —'

'I don't get the bit we're doing here. How are we even _pretending_ that this is a way for me to practise my magic?'

'PATIENCE MAGGIE!' Todd shouted in mock agitation. He'd sat down and had already begun to drink from his pint before they'd started the drinking game.

'If you draw a _Centaur_ ,' Derek continued pointedly, 'the last person to whip their wand out —' and with this, Todd and Derek both plunged their hands into their robes, producing their wands, and pointed them skyward, sending up sparks, '— has to take a drink. So that's a drink for you, love.'

Maggie rolled her eyes and obeyed. She was happy to try the beverage before her, anyway. She'd had firewhisky and mead before, but never Goblin-made ale. Unsurprisingly, it was _delicious_ , just like everything else in the wizarding world. She took another sip, for good measure.

'There are different rules for different dragons that you draw,' Derek said. 'For a common Welsh Green, you perform a charm, then I perform it and add something to it, then Todd has to do what I just did and add something to that, and so on round the table until someone messes up. For the Hebridean Blacks, you get to poison the drinks of everyone at the table —'

'What?' Maggie cried.

'He just means transfigure the liquid into something harmless,' Todd cut in reassuringly. 'I usually turn the pints into day-old tea, something like that.'

'And the poor soul has to finish every drop. Now, for a Chinese Fireball —'

Maggie and Todd both jumped and ducked a bit as the deck of cards Todd was shuffling suddenly exploded in his hands, the cards fluttering around the three of them as they fell to the ground.

'Right, that's a drink for Ollivander there,' Derek said, not missing a beat, and Todd happily took a sip of his pint, waving his wand while he was drinking so all the cards returned to the table in a neat pile. 'If the cards explode on your turn, that's a drink for you, of course. As I was saying, if you draw a Chinese Fireball dragon, you've got to take a shot of firewhisky. Draw a Bowtruckle, and you've got to play the game with your eyes closed for one full round. And... I think that's it. Got it, Gibson?'

'Er —'

'And, we're off!' Derek drew the first card and the three of them played a full round, getting more giggly as time passed. Their game ended as Derek struggled to produce the double rainbow across the table with a pot of fake gold at the end, a creation of Todd's and Maggie's after Todd drew a Welsh Green Dragon.

'This game is rubbish with you two,' Derek grumbled tipsily, throwing down his wand and refilling his glass for the third time. 'I _am_ clever, you know. I never get credit for it, because I'm always around people like Todd bloody Ollivander and Severus bloody Snape, but I am clever, you know.'

'I know you are, mate,' Todd said, grinning sympathetically at his friend.

'I was put in Ravenclaw, too, you know.'

'I know you were.'

'And I _always_ figured out the common room riddles, when you never could.'

'They weren't _riddles,_ ' Todd said bracingly. 'They were _trick questions.'_

'They weren't trick questions!'

Todd sighed. 'Maggie. Help us resolve a years-long argument between the two of us. The eagle door knocker. Did you — _do_ you — love it or hate it?'

'I like it! You don't? I think the door knocker's fun.'

'Maggie, don't get me started,' Todd muttered, shaking his head a little tipsily.

'Seriously, _don't_ get him started.'

'All right, I'm — I'm getting started. I'm going to get started. First of all, Maggie, it's a _terrible_ security system that in no way ensures that Ravenclaws can get in and others will stay out. It's horribly ironic that the House that declares itself the cleverest has a shit system like that. Second of all, I finally learnt by my Sixth Year that that bloody pigeon doesn't want _correct_ answers. She wants _mysterious_ answers,' Todd said, wiggling his fingers in the air. 'Another affront to critical thinking.'

'What do you mean she doesn't want _correct_ answers? Of course she wants correct answers! That's the only way you can get in!'

'No no no. No no. No.' He'd had the bad luck of drawing every single Chinese Fireball dragon in the deck, and was mixing a good deal of firewhisky in his system with Goblin-made ale. 'One time, she asked me, "Do merpeople speak Mermish underwater?" And I said, no. They only speak Mermish above water. Everybody knows that. But she didn't accept my answer!'

Maggie grinned. She could see both Todd's point and the door knocker's side of this.

'Stupid bloody pigeon,' Todd muttered as he pointed his wand at a beer bottle, the cap popping off as he did so. He poured the bottle's contents into his pint glass and took a sip. 'So I had to wait there like an idiot for someone else to show up, and the door knocker asked this Sixth Year Ravenclaw girl the same question. And do you know what she said?'

'I imagine she said something along the lines of, "Just because you can understand someone doesn't mean they're speaking your language".'

'Ah, yes, I see that Ravenclaw House has trained you well. Yes, that was pretty much the answer she gave, and the door swung open. Can you imagine, Maggie,' Todd said, gesticulating irritably, 'if I was taking Care of Magical Creatures, and there was an exam question about whether Mermish is spoken underwater, and I answered it with, " _Just because you can understand someone doesn't mean they're speaking your language_ "? The professor would probably write, "Nice try, Mr Ollivander. Revise harder next time" on my paper. What if we just answered all the questions that were put to us that way? Who won the Goblin Rebellion of 1612? _Well, did anyone really come out of that unscathed?_ Who first discovered the dragon colony in Romania? _Well, the dragons always knew it was there, didn't they?'_

Derek shot Maggie, who was giggling lightly, an amused eyeroll as they listened to Todd's rant.

'Todd has tried to blast that door open more than once during his time at Hogwarts,' Derek said to her. 'It asked us once, "Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?" and Todd launched into a long explanation of the research done on magical bird evolution, and I finally just interrupted him and said, "A circle has no beginning".'

 _'A circle has no beginning!'_ Todd repeated at Maggie with a mad, incredulous look on his face. 'That's not an answer, Maggie! That's not an answer!'

'That's because the door knocker values _wisdom_ over book knowledge, Todd,' Maggie said patiently. 'It forces you to look at things in a different way and recognise a kind of truth that you rarely learn in a classroom.'

Todd gave a grumpy _hmmph!_ into his beer. 'Shall we play again?' he muttered, waving vaguely at the cards scattered across the table.

Suddenly, a bright pink firework exploded outside the window. Derek looked surprised; Todd looked positively alarmed.

'Is that Deirdre?' Derek said, looking at the window with confusion.

'Did you invite her tonight?' Todd said, looking partly angry and partly stricken. 'What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of a friend are you?'

'Of course I didn't invite her!'

'This is your mum's doing!' Todd said furiously. 'She must've _owled_ her after I showed up. For fuck's sake —'

'I can't ignore her,' Derek said, gesturing awkwardly to the window. 'She'll be able to see the lights in the flat from the street.'

'Well I'm leaving then.' Todd stood up so abruptly that his chair toppled over. He turned on the spot. Nothing happened.

'Anti-Apparition wards, mate,' Derek said apologetically. 'Sign of the times.' He strode hesitantly toward the window, opening it and starting a conversation with Todd's former girlfriend.

Todd looked wildly around the room. 'I'm going out the back window,' he said desperately to Maggie. 'Do you want to come with me?'

'Todd, I would _not_ advise that you do that,' Maggie said warily as she watched Todd stumble slightly on the spot. 'I don't think you're fit to climb down a storm drain, or whatever it is you're planning.'

Derek turned around. 'I'm, erm, I'm going to fetch her downstairs. I'm sure it'll be fine, mate.'

Todd looked miserable. He picked his chair up, resigned, and slumped back into it.

'Shouldn't she feel awkward around you too?' Maggie asked sympathetically. 'You're her ex as well, after all.'

He shook his head ruefully. 'You'd think that. But she's almost smug about it, somehow. I think she thinks it's funny, to agitate me like this.'

'It _is_ sort of funny. But —' she said quickly, suppressing a smile as Todd shot her an annoyed look, '— mostly mean-spirited.'

Deirdre and Derek appeared at the top of the stairs, and Todd suddenly became very preoccupied with his pint glass. Maggie was familiar with the Slytherin girl, but she seemed to have become even prettier since finishing Hogwarts a couple years ago. Deirdre Fortescue was almost Veela-like — not literally, Maggie was pretty sure. Her hair was more of a yellow-blonde than the white-blonde of Veelas, and she looked very much human. But the confidence with which she carried herself, the slyness in her eyes as she regarded Todd's downcast gaze, and the way she made her way over to the bottle of firewhisky without hesitation and began fixing herself some sort of mixed drink seemed to mirror the distinctive, siren-like quality of a Veela, somehow.

Maggie also noted that Deirdre's hair was flecked with raindrops, which she shook out as she dragged her fingers through her hair a few times, but the water didn't cause it to frizz or expand at all. Must be nice, Maggie thought dryly.

'I'll be honest,' Deirdre said, 'I thought this was going to be some huge party, based on the way your mum described in her letter, Malkin. It's sort of cute, how she fancies herself Diagon Alley's resident matchmaker, isn't it Todd?'

'Adorable,' Todd muttered.

'Make yourself at home, Deirdre,' Derek said, raising his eyebrows in amusement as he watched her fix herself a drink.

Deirdre took a few sly sips from the Malkins' glass. 'Every time I run into Madam Malkin in the street, she always tells me what an attractive heir I would've produced for Ollivander's,' she said, laughing. 'It's sort of mortifying.'

Deirdre Fortescue looked anything but mortified to relate this, unlike Todd, who promptly turned a deep shade of crimson.

'You must work at Ollivander's, right?' she said affectionately to Maggie. 'I'm Deirdre.'

'Maggie,' she said, shaking hands with her. 'We've actually met.'

'Have we?'

'Yes. In my Fourth Year, during a Slug Club party.'

Maggie thought Deirdre might look embarrassed to hear this — it meant that Maggie'd witnessed her cause a bit of a scene and throw a glass of mead in Todd's face — but Deirdre simply looked thoughtful and said, 'Huh. I don't remember seeing you at that party.'

'Neither do I,' Todd said as he looked up, startled and embarrassed. Again, Todd was the only one who seemed to have the appropriate reaction.

'That's understandable. You... would've been a bit preoccupied.'

'How do you two know which party she's referring to?' Derek asked.

'Well, Todd only ever went to one, didn't he?' Deirdre said. 'I had to beg him a half-dozen times to take me. "The Slug Club is not an honor society, Deirdre",' she said in deep voice of mock sternness to Maggie. "'I'll not give that man the satisfaction".'

'I don't know who you're imitating right now,' Todd said mildly to his pint glass, 'but they seem like a very reasonable person. Slughorn gathers all those students together for one reason and one reason only: to ensure he can ask them for favours decades down the road. And the last thing I want to be is indebted to him. Keep that in mind, Maggie, when you go back to school next week. Besides,' he finished wearily, 'going to that party was a disaster, anyway, wasn't it?'

'It wouldn't have been,' Deirdre said, suddenly sharp, 'if you hadn't decided to start flirting with Lily Evans.'

'For. The. Thirtieth. Time. I wasn't _flirting_ with her! I was just talking to her!'

'James Potter didn't seem to think so. He nearly broke the glass in his hand, seeing the two of you laughing together.'

'If any bloke _breathed_ in Lily's direction back then, James would descend on them like a knight defending her honour — which annoyed Lily to no end, by the way. I just hadn't been at Hogwarts long enough to learn this, so I had to face _his_ wrath in addition to yours, all just because I explained to her how to bewitch a wad of chewing gum up Peeves' nose!'

'Don't lie to me, Todd. I know you have a soft spot for bright witches. Like a certain Muggle Studies professor,' she said, shooting a look at Derek, who tried not to look amused.

Todd gave an exasperated sigh and shake of his head. 'I know that you — that the _both_ of you — think that the only reason a wizard could _po_ ss _ibly_ be interested in Muggle technology is if he fancied the professor. But like it or not, the reality is that Muggles are brilliant inventors, and their creativity is inspiring to me, as a creator. Necessity dictates that Muggles have to come up with clever solutions to their problems, and wizards have stolen half the good ideas that Muggles have come up with. We're worse-off for not stealing _all_ of them!'

Deirdre smiled mischievously. 'I've forgotten what it's like to have to listen to your full rants. Before, anytime I wanted to stop you talking I could just kiss you.'

Todd, looking suddenly flustered, didn't respond to this. Deirdre, who was walking slowly closer to Todd, seemed to really savour how much influence she had over Todd Ollivander's state. To tease a boyfriend in this way was one thing, but to continue doing it after you'd ended the relationship? It was sort of rotten of her, and Maggie felt incredibly awkward, witnessing it. Maggie glanced at Derek, who looked just as awkward. He shot her a desperate look that seemed to say, _What do we do?_

'I miss our time together, Todd, sometimes,' Deirdre said with a smile and an offhand shrug. He continued to stare at his pint as she leaned against the table where he was sitting. 'I had certainly never known anyone who was so obsessed with me. Before we got together, you used to come eat at the ice-cream parlour just to _stare_ at me. You once asked me for a sample to every single flavour. _Twice._ '

'I think I was a bit obsessed with the _idea_ of you,' Todd grumbled. 'That was before I got to know you.'

'He was _overjoyed_ when I said yes to a date,' Deirdre said to Maggie in that confiding way again.

' _You_ were fairly overjoyed as well, though in a different way,' Todd said darkly, finally meeting her eyes. 'I had to hear the phrase "Sacred Twenty-Eight" far more times than I cared to. But you didn't always get the reaction you hoped for, did you, when you told people we were dating? I remember when Lucius Malfoy went to painstaking efforts to walk you through the fact that it was completely inaccurate to call the Ollivanders "purebloods". That's when I recall things began to go downhill a bit for the two of us.'

'Don't pretend that you think I'm some horrible person, Todd,' Deirdre said, her eyes glinting. 'When I broke it off with you in that boarding room of the Leaky Cauldron, you _begged_ me to stay with you.' Todd began to redden again as Deirdre shared this incredibly personal detail with the three of them in the flat. '" _Please_ , Deirdre! What can I change? I'll do anything! Please don't —"' Deirdre broke off, confused, as she noticed that her voice was suddenly sounding unnaturally high. 'You were positively —' She stopped again. It sounded as if she'd inhaled a small amount of helium. ' _Todd Ollivander, are you hexing me under the table?'_ she demanded furiously. Her voice was getting higher by the second, and her fury might have been intimidating had she not sounded like a munchkin from the Wizard of Oz.

'N-no!'

As she rounded on Derek, Todd raised a startled and amused eyebrow at Maggie, who gave an innocent shrug.

'Malkin, how _dare_ you —' But Deirdre broke off again, because the three of them were making choking noises, clearly trying not to laugh at her absurd voice. She slammed her glass on the table and gave the three of them one last furious look as she stomped toward the door. 'This is a fine way to treat a friend!' she squeaked, sounding like a cartoon mouse, which caused Maggie and Derek to lose it. Deirdre slammed the door to the Malkins' flat, and Todd grinned weakly as Maggie and Derek shook with laughter, clutching their sides. Maggie accidentally snorted, which caused her and Derek to laugh even harder. Todd began to gather up the crate of beer on the ground.

'Oh, Todd, don't leave!' Maggie said, gasping through her tears of mirth. 'Not after I finally got rid of her!'

'I'm not leaving,' Todd said, picking up the crate and bringing it over to her, handing it off with something like reverence. 'You deserve this. All of this. How else can I repay you? What do you want? Galleons? Books? Muggle records? More shield charm robes? Seriously, name it. I am seriously indebted to you.'

'It was just a simple vocal cord-altering jinx,' Maggie said. 'Nothing you couldn't do, I'm sure.'

'I couldn't perform _Lumos_ around Deirdre. I freeze up when I'm around her.'

'Any time she tries to torture you like this in the future, mate,' Derek said, 'you can just reply with, "Er, sorry Deirdre, what was that again? I can't really hear what you're saying, but you're driving those dogs nearby _mad_ for some reason".'

Todd laughed weakly.

'Are you all right, after all that?' Maggie asked him sympathetically. 'You still seem a bit shell-shocked.'

'I could use another beer, that's for sure.' Todd pointed his wand at the cards, and they gathered themselves into a neat stack on the table. 'Malkin, tell your mum I _won't_ be showing up for new robes tomorrow. Tell her I'm going to Twilfitt and Tattings for my robes for the rest of my life after what she did to me.'


	20. Quality Quidditch Supplies

' _Spiro_ _potens_ _fulmen... in aeternum... praesto...'_

'Todd, I've spoken to you about this,' Mr Ollivander said. 'You're trilling your Rs, but it's more of a tap. _Praesto_.'

'You're supposed to trill your Rs in Latin.'

'I assure you that the Roman wizards did not trill their Rs two thousand years ago.'

 _'Praesto_.'

'No. _Praesto_. A bit like a stifled trill. _Praesto_.'

 _'Praesto_.'

 _'Praesto_.'

 _'Praesto_.'

 _'Praesto_.'

Todd banged his forehead down onto the workshop table in frustration. 'I don't understand why we're even practising the Latin incantation. I've told you. I prefer the Greek incantation. Isn't that the entire point of an Ollivander's wand? The Greek influences?'

'I've used the Latin incantation for a good twenty percent of the wands in this shop,' Mr Ollivander said. 'For the hardier wands. Honestly, wands for the Gryffindors, oftentimes.'

'Sod the Gryffindors.'

'Excuse me,' Watts said mildly, as he overheard the two Ollivanders' discussion from his own workshop table. 'I'll ask you to be a bit more respectful to my House, if you don't mind.'

'Sod off, Watts, you prefer the Greek incantation yourself,' Todd grumbled, and Watts chuckled at this. 'I'll definitely be using the Greek incantation for my vine wood wand, when the time comes. It should've come already. I don't know why you're delaying it.'

Mr Ollivander fiddled thoughtfully with his own wand (hornbeam, twelve and three-quarter inches, dragon heartstring, Todd thought automatically) as he paced slowly around the workshop desk while Todd sat. Garrick Ollivander and his bloody pacing. Todd had a mad urge to stick out his leg.

'The Hungarian Horntail heartstring you procured a year ago... it won't do for your vine wood wand,' Mr Ollivander said softly, his eyes still focused on his own wand. 'You'll need a dragon with a quiet power. Sana will be performing surgery on a Swedish Short-Snout this fall. I believe that will be perfect, for your purposes.'

'No,' Todd said shortly. His father raised his eyebrows at him, and Todd looked down and took a deep breath. He needed to sound less insolent when it came to this. Because this was actually important. 'Dad. You have to trust me on this. The conflict between the soft beauty of vine wood and the fierceness of a Hungarian Horntail is exactly what I'm aiming for, with this wand, and I've carved it accordingly. The wand, and also possibly the person who wields it someday, will be kind and empathetic, but also stubborn and fiery. I... I know I'm still new to this. But this wand... I know what I want it to be. I know what _it_ wants to be.'

Mr Ollivander seemed torn between intrigue and scepticism. Watts gave Todd a subtle thumbs up across the room without looking up from his own work.

The elder Ollivander checked his pocket watch. 'Did you say your broom is beginning to veer to the left a bit?'

'What? Oh. Er — yeah? It is, a bit.'

'I think you ought to head to Quality Quidditch Supplies, before they close, to see if they can sort that problem out by tomorrow. I'd like to have you on the phoenix hunt next week, and I don't want you on a substandard broom.'

Todd sighed. Why did it feel like he'd lost this argument? He groaned softly as he stood up. Even during wandless practise, he could still feel the wand-creation incantation zap a portion of his energy.

'Are you all right?' his dad asked, peering at him carefully. 'If you need to rest —'

'I don't need to rest,' Todd snapped. 'Although, I won't be surprised if I have a headache by the time I've spent the rest of the afternoon haggling with Higgins.'

Mr Ollivander frowned, puzzled. 'Higgins is a reasonable man. I'm sure he'll fix your broom at a reasonable price.'

Watts snorted. 'Higgins has never done anything for a reasonable price in his life.'

* * *

Todd closed his eyes and massaged one of his temples about five minutes into his discussion with Higgins. The headache he'd predicted was already coming on.

'So, let me get this straight,' Todd said, annoyed. 'You're telling me that my seven-year-old broom is so old, _so ancient_ , that the fact that it's beginning to veer to the left a bit is _irreparable._ That I need to get a new one. That there's no way you could possibly fix this _tiny_ problem.'

'You lot at Ollivander's fly incredibly long distances on these brooms!' Higgins said defensively. 'You put them through far more than your average Hogwarts student playing Quidditch does, you can't expect them to last the typical ten to fifteen years.'

'There is no possible way that I put more stress on my broomstick flying in a straight line for miles than a stupid teenager whizzing about in all directions across a Quidditch pitch.' In his irritation, Todd was over-gesticulating a little too much, and he accidentally knocked over a tower of broom-handle wax jars at the counter. As he stooped down to pick up the jars, he continued to argue with Higgins — the bastard was clearly trying to turn a simple repair request into a five-hundred-Galleon sale — and it wasn't until he replaced the last jar at the top that he noticed that Maggie was in the store.

Todd stopped mid-sentence, suddenly in a significantly better mood. He took took out his wand, grinning mischievously as he did so. He'd noticed her, but she hadn't noticed him yet. What hex should he try next, to see if her robes could withstand it? Todd decided on the Knee-Reversal Hex and surreptitiously took aim when Todd, startled to see someone else in the shop suddenly press their lips up against Maggie's, missed.

And hit Robbie Ellerby square in the chest.

'Aaaargh!' Robbie's legs folded over and he fell forward, taking a rack of Quidditch robes down with him with a tremendous crash.

Oh shit. Todd's face fell as he watched Robbie fumble angrily in the pile of robes on the ground. He thought about Apparating on the spot, but Maggie caught Todd's eye suddenly as she'd been looking wildly around the shop. Todd winced and shot her an apologetic look as he rushed over.

'Sorry! Sorry Ellerby, didn't mean to hit you mate, that was meant for Maggie.'

' _THAT WAS MEANT FOR MAGGIE_?'

'Yeah, I sort of have this game going —'

' _WHERE YOU HIT HER WITH HEXES?'_

'Stop shouting at me and pull your trousers up past your knee, so I can sort this — eurgh. You're wearing jeans.' Robbie struggled to pull his jeans up high enough so that Todd could see the joint he'd just inverted. Jeans were so _stupid!_ Your body was meant to be _draped_ with clothing, not squeezed into a sausage casing of fabric.

Finally, Robbie was able to reveal the weird-looking backwards knee. Todd tapped it with his wand, and the joint cracked forward again as Robbie gave a small yelp.

'CHRIST! IS THERE A SLIGHTLY LESS PAINFUL WAY TO FIX THAT, YOU TWAT?'

'Not really, no,' Todd said to Robbie.

Maggie shot Todd a slightly annoyed look, and she tended to her boyfriend's other knee much more gently than Todd had with the first. She helped Robbie get gingerly to his feet, and he brushed himself off, looking angrily at Todd.

'Todd enchanted my robes with a permanent Shield Charm,' Maggie explained to Robbie, 'and he likes to, er, _test_ it sometimes, to make sure that it's holding up.'

'Well that sounds like a really good idea,' Robbie said sarcastically, still glaring at Todd.

'It was a really good idea, actually,' Todd said mildly, waving his wand to upright the rack and place the robes back onto it.

'What brings you here, Todd?' Maggie said, cutting off Robbie's retort.

'Er —' Todd said, glancing over at Higgins, who was still behind the circular wooden counter in the middle of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Higgins was examining Todd's broom carefully and shaking his head dubiously. Todd was unsure whether this was for show or not. 'Well, I was _hoping_ to take my broom in for a tune-up. But it seems like Higgins will only fix it under duress. He seems to think it's time to trade it in, but I don't believe that for a second. '

'Well, Robbie could probably take a look at it,' she said, looking over at her boyfriend inquiringly. 'Give you an honest assessment.'

Robbie, still massaging his knees, surveyed Todd with a slightly annoyed look. Todd could think of roughly two hundred other people he'd rather get a second opinion from.

'He doesn't... have to do that. I'm sure you two...' Todd trailed off as he struggled to think of a phrase that didn't have a double meaning. _Are busy? Have better things to do?_ There was a too-long pause while Maggie and Robbie waited for Todd to finish his sentence.

'I don't mind,' Robbie said brusquely. 'What are you flying?'

'Er... a Nimbus One Thousand and One...'

'Hmph.' Robbie grunted in a bit of an irked way at the name _Nimbus._ 'What year?'

'Seventy-three?'

'Hm. Those do tend to drop off a bit after the fifth year.'

'Sure, but not to the point where they have to be _scrapped.'_

'Well, let's see.' Todd wondered if he was detecting a faint note of aggression in Robbie's voice as he walked across the shop and plucked Todd's broom from Higgins' hands. Robbie clearly wasn't thrilled about Maggie and Todd's reconciliation.

He surveyed it end to end, rotating it quickly in his hands. Robbie seemed to be focusing primarily on the shape of the bundle of twigs, trying to determine if the shape was even all the way round. It was sort of interesting to watch him assess the broom — that is, until Todd's eyes slid over to Maggie. She had folded her arms on top of a low tower of boxes in the shop and was resting her chin in her arms, watching Robbie with interest and a slight, happy smile, and Todd had a sudden, inexplicable urge to yank his broom out of Robbie's hands and injure him with it.

'I agree with Higgins,' Robbie said, looking up. 'I say it's time to turn it in.'

'Aha! See, Todd!' the balding shopkeeper crowed, vindicated. 'I've told you before, you need to trust me when it comes to these things — just like I would trust your father if I were to come into the shop seeking advice about a wand repair.'

'Are you _sure?'_ Todd said sceptically to Robbie, ignoring Higgins. 'I mean, you haven't even ridden it or anything, how can you be —?'

'Well, I'm sure you can afford it, can't you?' Robbie interrupted, a slight look of distaste on his face.

Todd blinked. 'What? That's... not the point,' he said, frowning.

'I'm sure Ollivander's can just use whatever money they _could_ be spending on wages for Maggie toward a new broom for you.'

Todd flushed slightly, feeling a bit abashed but also a little indignant. Maggie reddened as well.

'Robbie!' she hissed. 'That's not fair at all. Apprentices at Ollivander's don't get paid until their third year, that's just the way it is.'

'Everybody had to wait till their third year,' Todd said. 'Even me.'

'Oh, you didn't get paid till you were thirteen? What a hardship.'

'Robbie — _stop.'_

Todd frowned, thinking. 'Maggie,' he said softly to her, 'if this is important, I think you might actually have more sway on this topic than I would. Coakley likes you far more than he likes me,' he said with a slight smile. 'If you make your case to him, he might find work for you to do next summer and make an exception.'

'Todd, it's fine. I don't need to be an exception,' she said. Her cheeks were still quite pink.

'You're really not going to ask on her behalf?' Robbie said incredulously.

'I — I _can_ ,' Todd said, a little annoyed as he returned his attention to Robbie, 'but, it's like I said, Coakley will be more likely to listen to —'

'If she got paid at Ollivander's, she also wouldn't have to risk her neck every two weeks, going to Gringotts to exchange Muggle money for Galleons and Sickles.'

'Are you really going every two weeks? If that's the case, Maggie, I should go with you —'

'I think I'll be the one protecting my girlfriend, thanks.'

'Look Ellerby, if you really are concerned about your girlfriend, then you won't let your ego get in the way, and you'll let a trained duellist protect her.'

'Didn't she _beat_ you in a duel?'

With this, Todd snatched his broom back.

'I'll certainly give you a good price for your Nimbus, Todd,' Higgins said, leaning over his counter eagerly. 'The sum will help you cover the payment on a new broom. A Nimbus 1500, perhaps?'

'Now,' Maggie cut in suspiciously, 'why would you give him a good price to sell it back to you if the veering problem is irreparable?'

'Well, many wizards would be unfazed by a second-hand broom that's veering to the left a bit,' Higgins said smoothly.

Maggie turned to her boyfriend. 'What you said was, "It's time to turn it in",' she said pointedly. 'You didn't say you couldn't fix it, I noticed. Do you think you could?'

Robbie frowned at his girlfriend. He seemed to be weighing whether he preferred to show off his expertise or tell Todd Ollivander to piss off. Finally, he sighed, and just as he seemed like he had resigned himself to doing Todd a favour, Higgins frantically wrenched Todd's broom out of his hands.

'Actually,' Higgins said quickly, 'now that I look at it from this angle, I do think I could salvage this broom, Todd, fix the veering problem for, let's say, fifty Galleons.'

'Twenty,' Todd said, exasperated, as he tried to keep from rolling his eyes.

'Forty.'

'Thirty.'

'Done!' Higgins said happily, cheerily twirling the broom in a similar way that Robbie had done.

Todd sighed as Higgins produced the invoice for Todd to sign, that would magically draw gold out of the Ollivander's vault as soon as he dotted the 'i' in his surname. He felt a little self-conscious as he did, so close to Robbie and Maggie, uncomfortably aware that thirty Galleons was the weekly stipend for apprentices and would've likely been enough for Maggie to quit her waitressing job. Maybe he _could_ talk to Coakley about that... Could Maggie go on the upcoming phoenix hunt in Egypt, to earn her keep? No, Todd thought, frowning, their phoenix hunt was unfortunately planned for the 2nd of September, which made it too late... But, the end of summer also meant it didn't really matter if they addressed this now, since she'd be leaving Ollivander's for the Hogwarts fall term very soon anyway. Blimey, he'd wasted the majority of the entire season being a git, Todd couldn't believe how soon Maggie would be leaving —

'Nothing like a bit of competition to make Ernie Higgins a bit more honest,' Robbie grumbled, while the balding shopkeeper departed with Todd's broom, bringing it to the back. 'Granted, you wouldn't have this problem in the first place if Nimbus Racing Broom Co. didn't hex their brooms to deteriorate after less than ten years.'

Todd raised his eyebrows. That was quite an accusation.

'Volatile, those things,' Robbie continued. 'You really should consider getting a Tinderblast or a Swiftstick.'

Todd couldn't stop a derisive snort escaping from his nose, and Robbie gave him a nasty look.

'Erm, thanks. The — the both of you,' Todd managed, though he felt like Robbie had done the absolute bare minimum to help him out.

'Sure thing, Todd,' Maggie said. 'I've got to get to lessons with Coakley, but I'll see you around.' Before Todd had time to look away, she put a hand on Robbie's chest and kissed him swiftly. 'Be nice,' Todd heard her say softly to Robbie, raising her eyebrows at him with a smile.

'He's the one who hexed me,' Robbie muttered as she turned on the spot and left the store.

Todd cleared his throat and glanced around a bit before he nodded at Robbie. 'Well, I'll just pick up my broom tomorrow, I think. See you —'

Robbie shook his head. 'Higgins is going to come back and say there are other things wrong with it if I'm not here to argue with him.'

'I can handle him,' Todd said with a ripple of irritation.

'Just give it five minutes, it'll be a quick repair.' Robbie began to try on Chasers' gloves, working to find a pair that fit. 'I know Higgins as well as you do, between my dad's shop and buying my own things for Quidditch. I'm captain for Gryffindor this year, you know.'

Todd was very proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut when he very desperately wanted to sarcastically inquire if he might trouble him for an autograph, then. In the spirit of being civil — something Todd had been working on in general once his conversation with Maggie'd made him realise just how much his moodiness affected other people — he figured he'd actually try to be nice to Robbie Ellerby.

'Do you really think Nimbus Racing Broom Co. charms their brooms to break down after a period of time?' Todd asked, genuinely curious.

'I do... We don't have any proof, though. And they fly so well for the first several years that people don't even really care,' Robbie said, looking a bit glum. 'Our brooms — the Ellerby and Spudmore brooms — they're good brooms, you know. But people don't have the patience for them. They expect to hop on and to immediately be able to perform Wronski Feints. People don't want to _work_ on becoming good flyers, on becoming acquainted with a broom. That's why people like Nimbuses so much. It tricks them, at least superficially, into thinking they're good flyers.'

If Todd had to guess, he would speculate that this statement was one part truth and two parts denial. He'd also had enough conversations with Severus Snape to recognise when he was being subtly insulted. But Todd powered through, determined to be the bigger man around this peaked-at-seventeen wanker.

'Sure. That's a sentiment we're all-too-familiar with, over at Ollivander's. Mums in fur coats, showing up in a huff with their sons — it's _always_ their sons — and demanding that we sort out the sub-par wand we sold them, because there couldn't be any other reason Johnny can't perform a decent Summoning Charm to save his life,' Todd said, pushing his glasses up with his hands as he rubbed his eyes. Just _thinking_ about that kind of customer was exhausting to him. 'My dad usually just takes the wand in the back and does the crossword in his office for five minutes before he returns and says he's upgraded the magic.'

Robbie laughed genuinely. 'Christ, do those ancient families call you "working-class" too? Maggie once overheard some witch call the Ellerbys working-class. I've never seen a more tremendous eyeroll in my life.'

Todd grinned at the thought that Maggie — who very likely had genuine working-class roots — would likely react with similar exasperation if she learned that wizarding aristocratic families like the Blacks and the Malfoys _did_ call the Ollivanders 'working-class', in the same way that a lawyer in the 17th century had been considered working-class — simply because he _worked_ at all. When Todd and Deirdre had been together, it had annoyed her to no end that Todd's response to this state of things was usually more of an amused snort rather than any sort of righteous anger. Deirdre hated when high society people moved the goal posts as she attempted to win them over. _'It's not fair!' she would say. 'My family has wizarding blood, and your family has wizarding blood_ and _money_ and _prestige_! _What else do we need to have to prove to these people that we're one of them?'_ She'd been less-than-amused by Todd's joking conclusion. _'They want us to sell our businesses, move into drafty manors and speak to each other only in Parseltongue. But,'_ and here Todd had sighed dramatically, _'even then we'd only be hissssshassssaahhhh — that means nouveau riche trash in Parseltongue.'_ Deirdre had never appreciated how hilarious Todd was.

'I'd like to see Simon's reaction,' Todd said, 'watching someone call my dad "working-class." My dad told me this morning he wanted to "dissect the semiotics of incantation" with me before a meeting he had at Gringotts. You know, typical breakfast conversation.'

'Could be worse. We could be looking at futures working for the Ministry, embarking on a desk job and a life of paperwork. As far as I'm concerned, as long as you're working with your hands, making something useful, you're still salt of the earth.'

Todd smiled. 'Here here.'

'Maggie loves our shop out in the Black Forest. I'm taking her there for our last week of the holidays, before we go back to school.'

'You are?' Todd said, taken aback. 'How's she going to get to Ollivander's? That's a hell of a distance to travel every day by Floo or Apparition...'

'Didn't she tell you? She's done with her lessons for the summer. Today's her last day. She told the wizard she's apprenticing under.'

'What!' Todd felt weirdly distressed by this news. Today was the last day he'd get to see Maggie for months? He thought he'd have a whole week before he'd have to say goodbye! 'Well that's awfully — awfully — _selfish_ of you...'

' _Selfish_ of me?' Robbie's eyes narrowed. Whatever tentative goodwill had formed between the two wizards departed just as quickly as it had arrived.

'Don't you _care_ about... about... Maggie's _education_?' Todd sputtered. 'What are you, some sort of misogynistic tyrant who thinks your girlfriend's pursuits aren't important? She's an _apprentice_ , she can't just come and go as she pleases! She ought to finish out her summer here, at Ollivander's, with —'

'With _you_?' Robbie sneered.

'With _Coakley_.'

'Coakley didn't have a problem with it. And Maggie was the one who suggested the trip to the Black Forest, not me. I'm sure this is a foreign concept to you, Ollivander, but when a girl really likes a bloke, she actually wants to spend time with him —'

'Oh, get over yourself, you big-headed —'

'Broom's fixed!' Higgins called cheerily from the back, ignorant to the row that had started in his shop. Seething, Todd walked toward Higgins to shake off his building desire to punch Robbie Ellerby in the mouth.

'Now, Todd, I've sorted the veering problem, but I noticed that it's having some trouble picking up speed, and for an extra twenty Galleons, I'd be happy to —'

'Higgins, there isn't anyone in all of England who is less willing to listen to all your bollocks right now,' Todd said through clenched teeth. 'I'll have my broom back, thanks, I haven't noticed any problems with the speed.'

Higgins acquiesced, shrinking back a bit from Todd. Broom in tow, Todd stormed out of the shop, and he and Robbie had an opportunity to mutter quiet insults to each other as he brushed past him, Robbie ducking as Todd attempted to 'accidentally' knock him in the face with his broom slung over his shoulder.

* * *

In the kitchen of their flat, Todd accidentally pulverised an onion for the second time that evening as he twisted his wand at it, attempting to dice it but really just causing it to more or less explode.

'Is everything all right?' Garrick said, raising his eyebrows as he removed bits of onion from the pieces of parchment he was pouring over, spread out across the table. 'I appreciate the gesture, Todd, but I tend to waste fewer vegetables than you when I'm the one to make supper.'

'I can handle it,' Todd said, finally peeling and dicing an onion with success before he poured the bits into a hot, enchanted bowl on the counter, prodding the collection of vegetables in the small bowl with his wand as they popped in the oil, taking off his glasses to wipe his streaming eyes on his sleeve in a way that reminded Garrick sharply of Elspeth in the kitchen. It was interesting that a child could get one parent's eyes but the other parent's poor eyesight. Funny how that happened sometimes. 'Just... distracted,' Todd said.

'What are you watching for?' Garrick asked as his son glanced out the window for what had to be the dozenth time.

'No one,' Todd muttered, an answer that only further confused Garrick.

Scents of garlic and thyme were filling the flat as Todd worked on his beef stew. It was the only thing Todd really knew how to cook, but Garrick had to admit that, over the years, Todd had refined the recipe into something that was rather good. It took a bit more work than the meals Garrick typically cooked, but it was still exactly the sort of thing that the two of them preferred — hardy, practical. Something that lasted for a week, that you could store away in the cupboard and ladle from its enchanted pot for several suppers to come.

Todd, who had been preoccupied with the meat for a while, eventually poured everything he'd prepared into a pot that was engulfed in purple flames, hovering in mid-air in a corner of the kitchen. He tapped the pot with his wand, and the flames grew bigger, encircling the pot entirely.

'We could get the sting from the onion out of the air if we could just open a bloody window,' Todd grumbled, staring at the thing, though Garrick was quite sure Todd wasn't looking at the window, but through it again, down into Diagon Alley. Why, though, he couldn't say.

Garrick waved his wand in vague circles to purify the air a bit. The Barricading Charm _was_ quite exasperating, especially on days like today. The weather hadn't been much to write home about for weeks, but today was unseasonably cool, and it would've been very satisfying indeed to let the breeze drift through the Ollivanders' flat. Garrick, like Todd, had felt a bit like a prisoner in his own home ever since they'd implemented all these protective charms.

When Todd suddenly banged on the window, Garrick thought at first that it was out of frustration, until he realized that the banging had the urgency of trying to get someone's attention.

'Maggie!' Todd shouted eagerly through the window. 'Don't Apparate, don't Apparate — stay there!'

Todd swung himself around the staircase bannister and down the stairs without a word to Garrick, to his bemusement. Unable to fully focus on the wand carving patterns before him, he watched the purple flames crackle voraciously around the pot and breathed in deeply the delicious smell of beef breaking down. Garrick stood up and moved toward the window. As he noticed that neither Todd nor Miss Gibson was down there anymore, his heart lurched with anxiety — an all-too familiar feeling over the past decade — until he noted with relief their voices on the stairs.

'Well, I won't lie to you, it's not like I expected you to become best mates or anything...' Garrick heard Miss Gibson say, somewhere near the second floor.

'For the record, I did admirably for the first two minutes.'

'You were decent to a person for two whole minutes? I'm impressed, Todd Ollivander, you're well on your way to sainthood.'

'Ha _ha_.'

The two of them surfaced into the kitchen from the staircase, and Miss Gibson's grin faded nervously a bit in Garrick's presence. She had, as usual, a book in hand.

'Dad, I invited Maggie to stay for supper. Since it's her last night here.' It wasn't a question. Todd was the one who was cooking, after all, so Garrick couldn't exactly veto it. And here Garrick was, thinking that his son was just feeling particularly domestic today, he thought dryly.

'Ah,' Garrick said, trying not to be too put-out by the fact that the evening had suddenly shifted from a relaxing meal with his work to a situation in which he'd have to entertain a guest. 'Of course. Er,' he said, shifting some papers closer toward him to clear a spot for her, 'have a seat.'

Todd poured Maggie a glass of pumpkin juice from a ceramic pitcher at the table as she sat down. 'It smells wonderful up here,' she said. 'What are you making?'

'My world-renowned Bachelor Slop,' Todd said with a grin as he tended to his cooking. 'Pour everything you've got in a pot, heat it, and eat for days. Pretty much as close as I'm going to get to a dish of my own.'

'I need to start using magic when I cook. It's _obscene_ how quickly witches and wizards can whip something up. Those flames?' she said, pointing to the fire surrounding the pot. 'It's not just heating the food, you know. It's manipulating _time._ You bend the laws of physics just to avoid the inconvenience of simmering.'

'Don't underestimate the ingenuity that comes from the desire for a good meal,' Garrick said. 'The first wands were primarily used as tools to catch and cook animals. Hunger can be a powerful motivator.'

Todd — pot-holder in one hand, ladle in the other — lifted the lid of his concoction to swirl the contents, which were newly tender. He waved Maggie over and carefully dished out a couple ladle-fulls of hot stew into a bowl that she held. Maggie brought this over to Garrick before she sliced him a piece of bread at the counter and levitated that his way as well.

'Ah, Miss Gibson, you don't need to —'

'Please, let me be helpful. I know I'm imposing a bit.'

'Of course not,' Todd said, looking up from his stew in surprise. 'We could use some company up here. It's usually about as cheery as the Ravenclaw common room the week before exams.'

Garrick blinked. For the first time in his life, it occurred to him that Todd may not appreciate a meal enjoyed primarily in silence the same way that Garrick did. The two of them usually spent their quiet suppers together with each man pouring over a book, or a piece of parchment, or a newspaper. Garrick realised with a start that Todd may have simply picked up this habit because Garrick left him with little choice.

'So... what was the _worst_ thing you said to Robbie today? I mean, if the whole reason you wanted to talk to me is so you get an opportunity to defend yourself before I meet up with him tomorrow, then you might as get to the point,' Maggie said, the corners of her mouth twitching as she and Todd settled at the table.

Todd shrugged defensively. 'The worst thing I said to him was that he had a big head.' He paused, eating a couple spoonfuls of stew. 'And, I may have also called him a misogynistic tyrant.'

Puzzled and amused, Maggie returned her attention to her stew as well.

'Who is Robbie? What are you two talking about?'

'Robbie Ellerby. Maggie's... boyfriend.'

'Ah, yes,' Garrick said, interested. 'You'll be on holiday in the Black Forest for the next week, won't you? Do you like it there?'

'It's brilliant,' she said eagerly. 'I had no idea there was an entire, hidden wizarding community there until Robbie showed me.'

'They make some very odd choices in wand construction there,' Garrick said thoughtfully. 'The last time I travelled to the Black Forest, I met a wizard who was wielding a wand with a core of Pensieve mist.' Garrick laughed and shook his head in disbelief, looking to Todd for affirmation, who raised his eyebrows. 'A Pensieve core!'

'Must've been one hell of a nostalgic chap,' Todd said.

'The magic was... intriguing. But... distant... in a way. And unreliable. You've got to be acutely present in the moment you're in to produce quality magic, and a Pensieve core certainly hinders that. You can't be elsewhere. Except, of course, in the case of producing a Patronus.'

'When did you ever go to the Black Forest?' Todd asked curiously.

'Oh, twenty years ago, at least,' Garrick said, not realising his mistake until Todd suddenly perked up. He awaited the inevitable barrage of questions from his son whenever a certain time period was brought up in conversation.

'Did you go with Mum?'

Garrick sighed inwardly. 'Ah... yes. Yes. I went with your mother.'

'What did you go for?'

'Just for a holiday together. I like the addition of mushroom here, Todd, you ought to make that a regular part of the recipe.'

'Did she like it? What was Mum's favourite part of the trip?' Todd asked carefully. Garrick had watched Todd refine his lines of questioning over the years, adjusting his phrasings in ways that Todd must've thought would be most likely to draw stories out of Garrick.

'I don't know. Probably our walks together.'

'Such as your walks... where?'

This time Garrick sighed audibly. 'There was... a trail there that we hiked. It led to quite a... spectacular vista. If I remember correctly, Elspeth seemed to enjoy that a great deal.'

Todd smiled, happy to have wrenched a new memory out of his father, however vague. He had no idea that painful memories were currently flashing through Garrick's mind. Elspeth and Garrick cursing and laughing as they struggled along the trail, vowing to exercise more — and Apparate less — as the Muggles easily bypassed them, despite the fact that the Muggles were donning huge rucksacks. Gasping and heaving, they had collapsed onto the ground to catch their breath. Garrick had kissed the dappled sunlight that had filtered through the trees onto Elspeth's cheeks and nose and forehead, glistening with sweat. When they finally made it to the vista, Elspeth had spread out her arms and exclaimed, _'It really makes you appreciate a view, doesn't it? All that hard work — it brought us to all this beauty!'_ Apparition was overrated, they had decided, and they wouldn't bother with it on this holiday. That was, until the next morning, when they awoke with spectacularly sore muscles that twinged painfully as they'd dressed. _'Sod it,'_ Garrick had said, taking her in his arms and Apparating with her back to the vista, smiling into her frizzy blonde curls as she'd laughed.

Garrick finished his stew quickly, bringing his bowl to the basin to wash it and dry it before he retired to his bedroom, as Todd and Maggie continued to chatter happily.

* * *

Todd looked half-guilty, half-exasperated as the two of them watched Mr Ollivander walk away and close his bedroom door.

'It's not something I should have to apologise for,' he grumbled softly, returning to his stew, 'wanting to know more about my mum and the life she lived.'

Maggie felt a strong urge to reach over and give Todd a hug, an urge she had to resist. When Todd had come bursting out of the front door of Ollivander's, inviting her to join them for supper upstairs, Maggie had accepted against her better judgment. She was growing to like Todd very much as a friend, but she doubted he had only friendship in mind when he spent time with her. The subtext was there, in his story about his less-than-chummy conversation with Robbie. What were you supposed to do, when you found yourself falling into friendship with someone who may or may not still have feelings for you? Was it cruel to want to keep spending time with them? Was it naive?

'You can't expect everyone to tell you anything you want to know, Todd,' she said. 'Sometimes people get to keep things private. It's their right.'

Todd sighed, stretching. He laced his fingers behind his head as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. 'It doesn't make sense to me, keeping things to yourself like that. Life can be lonely enough when you're _not_ making an effort to isolate yourself. Why do people cut themselves off like that? Why _not_ share what you're thinking? Why go through life completely in your own head?'

'Because sometimes it cheapens a memory, to share it,' Maggie said, shrugging. 'Sometimes people don't understand how important something is, that you're sharing. And then you're just left feeling foolish. Besides,' she added mischievously, 'sometimes it's best not to share _everything_ you're thinking. Like, "Do you really think you have to flirt with people to get what you want?'"

Todd flinched as if she'd thrown something at him, unlacing his hands from the back of his head. 'Maggie, I — I _hate_ that I said... I really am sorry. I was such a —'

'Water under the bridge, Todd. Shouldn't have mentioned it,' Maggie said, laughing. 'Couldn't help it.'

Todd looked guilty as he drummed his hands on the table. He looked as if he was going to say something a couple of times, faltering each time.

'It's really fine. I shouldn't have brought it up.'

'No, it's not that — well, I mean — it's not _just_ that. It's just that...'

'What?'

'Well, I just — I just wanted to ask you something, and now I feel a bit awkward about it...' Todd sighed; Maggie tensed. Oh no. Was he going to tell her how he felt? Was there anything she could do to stop him? So much for this newfound friendship of theirs. At least Maggie was literally leaving the country after tonight.

'I just wanted to ask you, if...'

'...yes?'

'Well...' Todd looked at Maggie nervously. 'Can I borrow your typewriter for a little while?'

Maggie blinked. An absurd smile spread across her face out of sheer relief. Maybe she could do to be a little less full of herself sometimes. 'My typewriter?'

'I know you'll be busy with your N.E.W.T.-level classes, I'm sure you need it. But I wouldn't keep it for very long. I'd have it back to you soon.'

Maggie shook her head, completely nonplussed. 'I don't understand why you're asking me this... What would you _need_ it for? Do you even really understand how it works?'

'Yes,' Todd said brightly. 'It transcribes what people are saying. And it's noiseless as well, isn't it?'

'Er... yes...' Maggie was quite proud of how skillfully she'd enchanted her typewriter, but she didn't think Todd understood the Muggle device well enough to appreciate how drastically she'd altered it. Even if he _had_ learned to say it correctly, finally. 'It's not easy to use, if you've never used a typewriter before. You still need to know how to load the parchment —'

'Well I was hoping you could show me.'

'Tonight?'

Todd shrugged, slightly sheepish. 'If it's not too much trouble.'

Maggie sighed, a little exasperated. 'You've got to tell me what you want it for. At least then I can know if there are any alternatives I can suggest.'

Todd drummed his hands on the table again, thoughtfully this time. 'I essentially want to eavesdrop on a room. I want to hear what people are saying. I think if I could store this typewriter away somewhere, I could essentially get a transcript of what was said when people thought they were alone.'

'Well _that's_ more than a little unethical. What room? What people?'

Todd opened his mouth, then closed it. He rubbed his hands together nervously, looking away. 'I probably shouldn't divulge everything. I need to be careful about this.'

'Well, I'm the one who buys the ribbons and printwheels for this thing. And I'm the one who spent a full term in my Fourth Year getting the kinks out of the enchantment magic so that it was perfect. So you'd best tell me if you want me to share one of my favourite magical objects with you.'

Todd was smiling. 'I want to bring it,' he said, finally, quietly, 'into the Fenny Snake.'

This meant absolutely nothing to Maggie. Todd seemed put-out by her inability to see the gravity of what he'd just said. 'What is that?'

'It's a pub. In Knockturn Alley.'

'Why... do you want to bring my typewriter into a pub?'

Todd threw up his hands. 'Oh, come on Maggie! Don't you see? Your typewriter has the potential to be the best spy the Order has ever had!'

Maggie looked at him sceptically. 'Except there's a literal paper trail of evidence of the spying. What if it's discovered?'

'Much better than if an actual spy is discovered. Human spies are killed when they're found. But typewriters would just be smashed. But —' he said quickly at the look of horror on her face '— I promise you that it won't be discovered. It's safe with me.'

'How can you possibly promise me that?'

After Todd explained his plan to her, the two of them spent the rest of the evening hunched over Maggie's typing machine which she fetched via Apparition, Todd asking careful, discerning questions as Maggie patiently showed him how to use it, as they stood in the Ollivander flat that smelled of garlic and dust and wand wood and warm magic.


	21. Todd’s Plan

'Right,' Todd said into the locker room mirror, running his hand nervously over his hair to flatten it before putting on his top hat. 'What if I say if I said it something like this... Look, I know things have been a bit weird between us. And I know that's my fault. So let me make it up to you. Let me take you out for a drink.'

'You've got to be a bit more confident, dear,' the mirror coaxed. 'A man will never win over a girl he's got his eye on by being a stammering, bumbling fool.'

'I wasn't stammering, first of all,' Todd grumbled. 'And second of all, allow me to introduce you to about a hundred different two-Sickle paperbacks at Flourish and Blotts that suggest otherwise.'

'Well that's intriguing. You ought to read one to me sometime.'

'Now, then you really _would_ see me stammer,' Todd said wryly.

'Let's try your little speech again, shall we?'

'OK.' Todd took a deep breath before mustering a faint smile. 'I miss you. I really do. And I'm sorry about how I've acted. Please, let me buy you a drink, to make it up to you.'

'Darling, didn't you say things were a bit weird between the two of you? Won't taking this girl out simply make things more awkward?'

'Well, honestly, that doesn't really matter.'

'Oh dear, Todd,' the mirror said nervously. 'You're a bit of a moron when it comes to matters of the heart, aren't you?'

Todd grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but whipped around when he heard the doors to the showers open and close.

'Why don't sentient mirrors make more people in the wizarding world uneasy?' Nate Dobson grumbled as he emerged, donning fireproof robes and flipping the front of a welding mask open atop his head. 'Sana keeps asking to add one to our sitting room, and I told her I wouldn't bring one of those into our house if you paid me. I mean, do the mirrors at the Leaky Cauldron, for example, comment on people's techniques while they're shagging in the boarding rooms?'

'You've got to request a room without sentient furniture for those purposes,' Todd said, tossing his hat to the side and grabbing for his welding mask as well. Todd was also decked out in fireproof robes. 'I never knew whether to be cocky or embarrassed when I asked Tom for a room without sentient furniture. Especially when Deirdre was standing right next to me.'

Nate snorted. 'Right.'

Todd was a little annoyed that Nate didn't seem to believe him and opened his mouth to argue, but he shut it, knowing that protesting loudly would just make him look exactly like the whinging brat Nate thought he was. 'How's Sana feeling about this dragon surgery?' he said instead.

Nate sighed. 'Terrified. She shouldn't be, though. She'll be brilliant, I know it.'

'I know it too,' Todd said as he handed Nate a crate full of surgery supplies before taking the other crate himself. Nate eyed Todd with mild surprise. 'I couldn't do your job on a regular basis. Beast-Hunter,' Todd continued. 'It's mad how many different skills you lot are expected to have.'

'A person really does have to be a bit mad to do this job,' Nate conceded as they made their way toward the doors and out into the warehouse's surgery room. 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon, and all that.'

'Yeah, it's probably not best to slice into one either, but what can you do?' Todd said, and Nate laughed as he pushed the doors open with the toe of his boot.

* * *

Todd surveyed the enormous Swedish Short-Snout that was snoring softly, in a magically induced sleep, in the Ollivander's forest warehouse. He, Miss Kim, Sana, Nate, Kurt and the dragon-tamer who always — somewhat annoyingly — insisted on being present during surgeries were standing around it. Todd had to say that Sana was doing a good job of concealing her nervousness. You sort of had to. Uncertainty was the last emotion you wanted to convey to the team right before you were about to snip a dragon heartstring from its pumping heart. But Todd knew Sana well enough to notice that she hadn't really blinked the entire time they'd been preparing and that she'd only been giving one-word, clipped answers to any questions put to her.

'You can do this,' he murmured as he offered her a tray of newly sterilised gloves and her sterilised wand.

'Thanks.' Sana looked a little bewildered by his words of encouragement, and Todd felt a ripple of guilt to see her so taken aback. He'd taken Maggie's words to heart about how he was missing the point if he was trying to prove that he was superior to the other wandsmiths. The fact that such an obvious statement had been an epiphany to him was — well — sort of embarrassing. Of _course_ he and Will and Sana and Nate were supposed to be a team. But he hadn't really thought of it that way before. Probably because, for the most of the time he'd known them, he'd been an awkward teenager going through various stages of puberty, and they'd been adults. He felt like he always needed to prove that _he_ was _their_ equal. But as soon as Maggie compared his dad and Coakley and Miss Kim to the dynamic that he ought to have with the apprentices, his worldview had turned on its head. All those times, over the years, that he'd pointed out the mistakes of the others and explained the correct answer... he'd been such an _arsehole_. Todd had been an Ollivander his whole life, but he'd never really felt special, only burdened by it. It was only getting to know Maggie that he realised how he came off, when he talked down to others who didn't have all this as a birthright.

Sana wasn't taking the gloves. She stared at them, frowning. She seemed to want to say something. Finally, her eyes met Todd's. 'Can I ask you something?' she said quietly.

'Sure.'

'I'm thinking of foregoing the gloves,' she said. He raised his eyebrows. 'Hear me out. They're kind of cumbersome, and I think I'll be able to manoeuvre better without them. And, besides, this is dragon blood we're talking about! The worst that'll happen if I get contaminated with it is I'll experience a sudden, dizzying surge of courage.'

'Erm, I think the gloves are to keep you from contaminating the dragon's body. Not the other way round.'

'Oh. Right, right. Of course.' Sana closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking suddenly deeply embarrassed and annoyed with herself. 'I knew that. It's just my bloody nerves, I just forgot. Stupid.'

Todd shook his head. 'Your idea's not stupid. You're right, you will be able to manoeuvre better without the gloves. I wish I'd thought of that during my surgery trial. Here,' he said, putting down the tray. 'We can make this work if I make sure to sterilise your hands and your wrists and your arms perfectly. Er — Nate — can you come over here for a moment? Sana's got an idea, and I want to make sure I execute it correctly.'

For a minute, Nate surveyed Todd with a raised eyebrow to hear him ask for help. Oh, come on. Todd asked for help sometimes! OK, maybe not very often. OK... maybe it _had_ been years since he'd asked for the second opinion of someone under the age of 40 at the shop.

Nate nodded as Todd took out his wand and explained what Sana had in mind. 'Yes... I think you can definitely do that. Make sure to sterilise the sleeves of her robes as well,' Nate said. 'And if I were you, I'd do a combination of detailed, close-up spell-casting as well as several wide sweeps, just to make sure she's completely free of contaminants. And, Sana, love, you'll have to keep from touching the outside of the dragon's body as well before you go in, yeah?'

'Right.'

Todd waved Sana's thank-yous away as he worked on her hands, though he did sort of wish that Maggie were here to see... Todd gave an inward eyeroll at himself and shook his head ruefully at his eager desire to show Maggie that he wan't always such a knob anymore. Hooray! Gold star, Ollivander, for meeting basic expectations of human decency. Ten points to Ravenclaw.

'What is it? What's that face you're making? You do think it's a dumb idea, I knew it...'

'What?' Todd looked up, distracted. 'No, no — thinking about something else.'

Sana looked at him sceptically.

'Why are you second-guessing yourself so much today?' Todd asked, laughing. 'It's not like you.'

Sana smirked at him. 'How quickly we forget. Didn't you puke the morning before your surgery trials?'

Todd chuckled. 'Right. Everyone thought I was hungover, but I hadn't gone to the pub all week.' Confident that Sana's hands and the outside of her sleeves were completely decontaminated, he poked his wand inside her sleeve and sterilised the inner fabric that was touching her hand as well, for good measure. 'I can promise you that it's much better once you're done, once you're on the other side. And I know you'll make it there with flying colours.'

Sana laughed, looking bewildered. 'Who are you, and what have you done with Todd Ollivander?'

'Oh come on Sana!' Todd burst out, exasperated. 'I'm a nice person!'

* * *

About a month after that fateful day that Maggie had first asked Todd about an Ollivander's apprenticeship, she had asked him if the Ollivander's crew had to kill dragons to obtain the heartstring. _'Absolutely not,' Todd had told her, when she'd caught him in a Hogwarts corridor on his way to Transfiguration. 'That would damage the magic so irreparably that it would be useless as a core. We can't u_ s _e anything that was obtained from violence, or death.' Maggie had nodded thoughtfully. She always seemed to drink in wandlore information with something like reverence. 'That makes sense,' she had said softly._

Todd thought about that conversation as he watched Sana climb deftly up the dragon's body, crouching to maintain her balance but not touching the dragon with her hands so as to keep them clean. Todd had fulfilled all his responsibilities in surgery prep, so he let his mind wander a bit now that she'd begun.

The Swedish Short-Snout before them truly was beautiful. It was obvious why Todd's dad would think it the perfect fit for a vine-wood wand. Her silvery blue scales caught the sunlight in the room and reflected it softly back, so that Todd had the vague sense of being underwater as the coloured lights moved in slow waves across the walls of the warehouse as she breathed in and out. It felt like being next to a humpback whale.

It didn't seem ideal, honestly, to take one — sometimes two — of a dragon's seven heartstrings against its will, even if they were doing it without harming the dragon. With phoenixes and unicorns, there was at least somewhat of a sense that you were getting the beast's blessing (the phoenix hunt in early September had been a bust, as usual). You had to earn their trust first in order to be successful. But you couldn't very well approach a conscious dragon and hope it'll let you pierce its underbelly and wrench out an organ, however un-vital, he thought as he watched blood trickle down the dragon's side as Sana worked. Nate stood at the bottom, using his wand to direct the light bloodshed into vials he held.

Todd made his way over to the dragon-tamer, a beanpole of a middle-aged man whose typically good-natured face was drawn together in tight concentration as he watched Sana work.

'Er, you're Mr Hay, right?' Todd said quietly, offering his hand. 'I don't think we've met properly before. Todd Ollivander.'

'Ah, of course, Mr Ollivander!' Phil Hay whispered, his face brightening as he shook Todd's hand. 'No introduction necessary, with those eyes of yours, though I'm sure you've heard that before!'

'More times than I can count.' Likely because of his glasses, people tended to find Todd's eyes slightly less unnerving than his dad's, though people always took note nevertheless. 'Piercing' was an oft-used adjective that Todd preferred. 'Creepy', another common comment, he liked less. 'So, I'm hoping you can share some of your insight with me. My dad's lately got it into his head that this dragon's heartstring would be a good fit for a wand I'm working on. What can you tell me about her demeanour? What's she like?'

'Oh, she's a force,' Phil said, beaming at the creature like a proud parent.

'Is she?' Todd said hopefully. 'Aggressive?'

'No, no, no.' Phil shook his head. 'Quite tranquil, actually. She's strong, though — flies brilliantly, and has a bloody impressive flame burst. She generally only uses it for cooking her food though, she's slow to anger. We're all quite fond of her.'

'Hm.' Todd frowned unhappily. From what he'd been told, the Hungarian Horntail that Todd had performed surgery on had a temper, which flared sometimes out of nowhere, to its tamers' consternation. Todd had liked that. He'd related to that. And that morning nearly a year ago that Todd had been struck with a burst of inspiration, he'd envisioned placing that firecracker of a heartstring in a disarmingly humble casing. A glass cannon.

'I've got it!' Sana shouted happily from atop the dragon, waving the now-separated, bloodied heartstring in the air with her bare hands like some sort of intimidating hunter-warrior woman. 'I think we're done here!'

* * *

'Todd, you've got to join us for a celebration pint tonight!' Sana said, her arms around Nate. She was still giddy from the success of her dragon surgery. Todd, Nate and Sana had all changed out of their fireproof robes in the warehouse's sort of makeshift locker rooms — Sana had quite a bit of blood to clean off herself — and the three of them were now returning their welding masks to the storage shelves in the back as the rest of the crew conferred with Hay about the dragon's recovery plan.

'Ah, I wish I could, but I've actually got plans tonight,' Todd said as he hung up the heavy robes.

'You can spend one night away from Derek Malkin, Todd, it won't kill you,' Sana teased. 'Let me thank you for your pep talk today. It helped, it really did. You were sweet.'

'Actually,' Nate said wryly, 'I think Todd might be planning a little trip to Hogsmeade now that a certain curly haired apprentice has gone back to Hogwarts.' Clearly he had overheard Todd practising in the mirror earlier that day.

'No, no... not Hogsmeade... and I'm not seeing Derek tonight either,' Todd said, not making eye contact with the Dobsons as he took an unnecessarily long time hanging up his robes. 'I'm, er, I was planning on getting ice-cream tonight, actually,' he mumbled.

Sana and Nate stared at Todd with a little more surprise than he cared for. 'Oh!' Sana said. 'To see... Deirdre Fortescue...?'

'Yeah. We just haven't been on very good terms since we split up, and... you know... we see each other in Diagon Alley nearly every other day, it's time I made an effort to... to sort of clear the air? Plus, there was an... _incident_ recently,' Todd said, smiling to himself, 'and Deirdre got kind of insulted and I've been meaning to smooth things over since that happened.'

Nate and Sana didn't press the issue, though it was clear they were both a bit baffled to picture Todd and Deirdre spending time together as friends. Todd knew it didn't entirely add up. He probably shouldn't have told them anything at all. They didn't know that Todd had been carefully considering under what pretense it would be the least suspicious for him to return to the Fenny Snake to plant Maggie's typewriter and that he had finally decided that a bloke attempting to win back his pretty Slytherin ex-girlfriend was the most believable scenario in which he would find himself in Knockturn Alley again.

In fact, no one knew that, for days, Todd had been experimenting with Maggie's typewriter. He knew how to make it invisible; he knew how to charm it so that it floated to the top of the ceiling and stayed there for days; Maggie had already silenced it, so the typing didn't make any noise; and, finally — Todd was proudest of this — he had worked out the best way to load an unwieldy ten-metre-long piece of parchment into the device so that it could transcribe a couple days' worth of conversations. One morning in his bedroom, he'd read the entire _Daily Prophet_ aloud in a low voice as the machine floated above him to determine if, and how accurately, it would pick up what he said. He needn't have bothered; Maggie's magic was perfect. Every word that Todd had spoken was there, down to the last engagement announcement he'd croaked out in a by-then hoarse voice.

* * *

Todd noted a surprising lack of nervousness in himself as he walked through Diagon Alley on his way to Florean Fortescue's. When Todd had a role to play, a job to do, he often found he could easily overcome any social anxiety. Maybe he would be a lot better with women if he always just pretended that he was asking them out in order to fight Lord Voldemort's cause.

That being said, Todd took his time as he made his way to the Fortescues', popping into Flourish and Blotts first. He scanned the shelves, as if expecting a new section to appear if he looked long enough. He frowned at the offerings. The bookshop had never failed him before, but nothing was quite right as a potential birthday present for Maggie. There were likely many books here that she'd be interested in, that she'd devour, but no matter how many times he looked through the shop he'd been unable to find a book that would make her smile the way he wanted to make her smile.

It was embarrassing how much Todd was missing Maggie. Fancying someone was really just the absolute worst, it really was. Each time he thought about her, he was knocked over by three different waves of emotion, in short succession: a jolt of giddiness, then frustration at his stupidity for continuing to feel this way about someone who he knew didn't feel the same way, and finally depression as this reality set in.

It was really stupid for him to be thinking about her birthday in November, considering that there was no rational reason for him to know her birth date at all, let alone get her a gift. It would almost certainly be weird if he sent her a gift after being friends with her for just a few months. And yet...

He'd first considered sending her a photo of all the apprentices that had been taken near the end of the summer. Todd had grinned at the photo as he'd looked at Maggie, clad in green apprentice robes and, as usual, practically bouncing on her toes to be in the workshop. It had seemed like the perfect birthday present — perfectly casual, but at the same time it would make her really happy — until his eyes slid over to himself in the photo. He kept looking over at her with this dumb smile on his face. He was too distracted to even wave like everyone else in the photo.

'Stop that,' he'd grumbled, prodding the photo of himself with his wand, and the Todd in the photo had jumped to avoid the wand, giving him an indignant look. 'You're making a fool of yourself.'

So that was out.

Derek had told Todd adamantly, repeatedly, wearily, that there was only one cure for this: Find another girl. But who? Seriously, who?

Todd left the bookshop with a sigh. Seeing without really seeing, he leaned against the wall of Flourish and Blotts and absentmindedly watched Wilkins, Diagon Alley's troubadour, dance his hands across the strings of his harpsolin, playing a ballad that Todd had heard hundreds of times, about Merlin being bewitched and imprisoned by the Lady of the Lake.

Todd sighed again. Women.

'You know Todd, I don't play just for the enjoyment of seeing you brood,' Wilkins said with a wink as he continued to strum, and Todd fished out a couple Sickles from his pockets. He was going to reply with something snarky when, as he tossed the coins into Wilkins' case, he looked up to see Deirdre Fortescue leaving the ice-cream parlour and making her way down the alley.

Right. Phase 1. Now or never.

'All right, Fortescue?' As soon as he'd said it, Todd cringed slightly at his lame attempt at being self-assured and aloof. Deirdre was clearly amused, raising an eyebrow as she stopped, surprised, on the cobbled road.

'All right, Ollivander?'

Todd gave her a nervous smile, taking off his hat in a tip that turned into him simply holding his hat. He suddenly needed something to do with his hands.

'You have good timing,' Deirdre said, cocking her head. 'I actually nipped out just now in search of an Ollivander's crew member.'

'Really?'

'Mm-hmm. The ice-cream isn't keeping cold today, we're not sure why.'

In spite of himself, Todd sighed and rolled his eyes. 'We're not this borough's resident magical calibrators, you know.'

'But you all are better than any private calibrator we could hire,' Deirdre said with a teasing innocence.

The two of them stood on the street, smiling slightly and not saying anything, awash in deja vu. Both of them knew they'd had this conversation before, the summer before their brief relationship began.

Todd gestured with his hat toward Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. 'Well? After you.'

* * *

Florean Fortescue was grumbling and cursing softly as he tinkered underneath the ice-cream serving area in the shop when the two of them entered, whatever malfunction he was dealing with clouding his typically cheery mood.

'Dad?' Deirdre said. 'Todd Ollivander's here, he thinks he can help us sort out the temperature issue.'

'Todd Ollivander?' he repeated with surprise. Todd saw half of Deirdre's dad's face — disheveled hair and a pair of raised eyebrows — poke out from beneath the counter.

'Er, hi Mr Fortescue.'

Florean Fortescue got to his feet and looked at Todd with the conflicted look of a man who very much liked the boy standing before him, but couldn't help but resent him as a former love interest of his daughter's. Florean's relationship with Todd had deteriorated a lot from years ago, when a precocious young Todd Ollivander used to discuss politics and history with him over free sundaes.

'I can take a look, if you like,' Todd said nervously.

'Certainly, certainly,' he said absentmindedly, frowning at the litres of ice cream before him, which Todd noticed were all quite soupy. 'You won't make it worse at this point, that's for sure.'

Mr Fortescue moved to push the swinging door open for Todd, but Todd boosted himself easily over the counter out of sheer habit. He got down on his knees on the tile floor and put his hand on the litres of ice-cream, which did all feel a bit too room-temperature.

'Did you try _Congelare_?' Todd asked, tapping the containers with his wand.

'Of course,' Mr Fortescue said, sounding a bit irritated.

Todd attempted to charm the buckets, touching them experimentally as he did so. His magic didn't seem to have any effect. This wasn't unheard of; magic malfunctioned all the time, and Todd delighted in these sorts of puzzles.

Todd futzed around with a half-dozen different spells for a while before he discovered the problem — the suppliers had coated the ice-cream containers in anti-jinx protections that were fucking with the ice-cream's susceptibility to cooling charms, and Todd overrided the protections enough to bring it back to an appropriate temperature before Mr Fortescue, pleased with the fix, began using his wand to swirl the ice-cream back to an appealing texture again.

'Thank you, Todd. A keen problem-solver, as always,' Mr Fortescue said, as he continued his work. He sighed. 'I suppose our suppliers are worried that Death Eaters might be a tempted to compromise any food sent our way.'

'They should be worried,' Deirdre said under her breath, 'what with everything you've done to speak out against You-Know-Who.'

Florean Fortescue pretended not to hear his daughter. Todd knew it was a sore subject between the two of them, whether it was worth it to declare your allegiances if you weren't forced to. Todd tended to take Mr Fortescue's side on this, one of several reasons Todd and Deirdre's relationship didn't last.

'Of course,' Todd said to him with shrug. 'Happy to help. Deirdre, I... I'm glad you... Are — are you free? Can you step outside? I've been wanting to —'

'Free ice lolly, Todd? To thank you?' Mr Fortescue seemed to be intentionally trying to distract him from his daughter. He offered him Todd's favourite, a sweet strawberry ice lolly, sprinkled with a dusting of graham cracker crumbs, with a creamy shortcake filling. Florean Fortescue's strawberry shortcake lollies were some sort of Eighth Wonder of the World. Since Todd and Deirdre had split up, Todd had avoided the shop and hadn't really had any ice-cream at all for years.

'Yeah... yeah, thanks Mr Fortescue!' Todd said, immediately regretting his enthusiasm, because he felt like he was about six years old as he accepted the lolly. _Gee golly thanks mister!_ He wondered if he should try to keep what little dignity he had left by not eating it, but he'd already accepted it... and it would be a waste if he didn't eat it now...

Todd tried not to laugh as he realised that he couldn't decide what was a bigger temptation: Fortescue's daughter or his ice-cream. Todd prayed with every ounce of his being that Florean didn't know Legilimency as he tried to shut down that thought.

'Are you saying you want to talk to me?' Deirdre asked Todd.

He nodded and gestured with the lolly that they go outside. He gave an awkward nod to Mr Fortescue, who regarded them warily as they stepped back out into Diagon Alley.

* * *

Todd had decided that the only suave way to eat an ice lolly in front of a fit witch was to share it with her, and so the two of them partook of the heavenly thing, handing it back and forth in front of the ice-cream parlour as Todd got through the apology he'd prepared.

Deirdre shrugged. 'It's fine. I guess. Maggie Gibson's not the first witch to lash out at me out of jealousy.'

'Jealousy?' Todd repeated, amused. 'And what would she be jealous of, exactly?'

'Taking your attention away from her. I've seen the way you look at her. Even if she doesn't feel the same way, no girl likes it when a man who fancies her gets distracted.'

Todd squinted at her. He wasn't sure, but he thought that might apply a lot more to Deirdre than to Maggie. 'Not every witch thinks the same way you do, you know.'

'Yes, they absolutely do,' she said with a smirk. 'Some just pretend otherwise.'

Todd tried not to roll his eyes. Under any other circumstances he'd set the record straight, but for now he needed to keep Deirdre in good spirits. 'So can I buy you a drink? To make it up to you?'

Deirdre's laughter bubbled up, and Todd smiled back, bemused. 'You know, there are other ways to spend time with people other than buying them pints.'

He looked at her blankly. 'Like... what?'

Deirdre shook her head ruefully, finishing the lolly and taking out her wand to incinerate the wooden stick that remained. 'Never mind. Let's go. The Leaky Cauldron, I presume?'

'Well, since it's you I'm trying to make amends with, I figured we could go to your favourite pub. Just let me grab a crate first. I want to bring home some of that elf-made wine.'

* * *

Todd went through his drinks quickly, downing two for each one Deirdre had. His plan was that the barman had to think he was sufficiently pissed enough that he would be in a position to _accidentally_ let a piece of information slip to him later on. It was a good plan. An _excellent_ plan, Todd thought happily as he bought another drink at the bar while Deirdre was still halfway through her second glass of wine.

'An Englishman whose favourite hobby is getting blind drunk,' Deirdre observed archly, cooling sipping her drink as Todd returned to their table. 'Todd Ollivander, you are so unique and refreshing.'

'Why shouldn't I drink? It makes me so charming.' He shot her a grin. Weirdly, his secret mission, plus the alcohol, was making him sort of Dereky.

'It certainly makes you _think_ you're charming,' Deirdre said. She was trying not to smile.

'What are your plans for Bonfire Night?' he asked before taking another swig.

She shrugged in a detached way. 'Dunno. Might just work.'

'Ah! But it's your favourite holiday!'

She shrugged again. 'Trying to save up. I'm thinking about taking my dad and I to America for a few years.'

Todd blinked. 'What? Seriously? Why?'

Deirdre laughed incredulously. 'I don't know, Todd. Maybe because there's a war on? Maybe so that we aren't _murdered?'_

Todd sighed and looked down at the table. Technically, the Fortescues shouldn't have anything to worry about. They're purebloods who sell ice-cream, for Merlin's sake. Shouldn't exactly be a target for the Death Eaters. But Mr Fortescue had a habit of speaking out against You-Know-Who. It terrified Deirdre to no end. It was really no surprise, when you thought about it, for the daughter of an outspoken Gryffindor to become rather disillusioned with her father's at-times foolish bravery and see the usefulness of a more Slytherin mindset. But, obviously, Todd was in no position to fault someone for a stupid plot in the name of the cause.

'Does your Dad want to leave?'

She sighed. 'Of course not. But I think I might be able to convince him eventually, if things get really bad.'

Todd thought for a while. 'Why America?'

'Well... I mean... I want to go to New York City.'

'Ah, of course,' Todd said, laughing. 'Deirdre Fortescue's too interesting to hide from You-Know-Who in some boring town no one's heard of before.'

Deirdre looked annoyed, but she didn't dispute it.

'Well, just be careful,' Todd said kindly. 'You know, their wizard hospitals charge you, in the States. They're not free, like St Mungo's. They charge you _a lot_ , from what I've heard. Probably not the best situation for your dad.'

Deirdre waved this away. 'My dad's fine, he's healthy. He's twenty years younger than your dad.'

Todd shrugged. This was true. Garrick and Elspeth Ollivander had both been in their forties when they'd had him. He eyed the bartender, finally gearing up to execute Phase 2. 'I'm going to buy some wine to bring home. Do you want another drink?'

'I'm all right,' she said with a smirk.

Todd shrugged, picking up the crate. 'Suit yourself.'

He bumped into a table, hard, as he walked toward the bar. Just like he'd... planned. Todd winced, rubbing the front of his lower thigh as he approached the barman. That'll be a bruise. 'All right mate? I'll have several bottles of elf-made wine tonight,' he said, placing the crate on the bar.

The barman grunted, scowling at Todd just as he had the last time Todd had been here with Derek and Snape. As the barman bent down to retrieve several dusty bottles of wine from below the bar, Todd took out the Mandrake-leaf cigarette he'd rolled and produced his wand from his robes. He'd made Maggie's typewriter invisible, and it was currently sitting inside the crate.

Using as little flourish as possible, Todd levitated the object up to the ceiling, several feet above the barman's head. He grazed the typewriter with his hand holding the cigarette on its way to the ceiling, just to make sure the enchanted object was there.

'Oi!' the barman barked sharply as he rose up. 'Put that wand away if you know what's good for you! You're lucky to even be allowed in here at all, Ollivander.'

Todd scowled, playing the part. Maggie's typewriter was now in place. 'Only trying to light a fag,' he grumbled as he lit it quickly before he shoved his wand back into his robes, widening his eyes insolently as he showed the glaring barman both his empty hands and took a drag. He pulled it out of his mouth, unable to suppress a couple of coughs as he breathed out. He never smoked.

'Wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Deirdre,' Todd continued to grumble. 'Your lot aren't exactly my favourite kind of people either.'

'You'd better watch your step, boy,' the barman growled. 'You and your father aren't as invincible as you think.'

Todd had to stop himself from pumping his fist. The barman couldn't have given him a better opening for his next line.

'Actually,' Todd said softly in a taunting voice, leaning in toward the barman, 'we are literally invincible. My father and I have already taken an Unbreakable Vow,' he lied.

The barman began loading the wine bottles into Todd's crate. He looked uninterested, but Todd noticed he was certainly taking his time placing each bottle, as if waiting to see if Todd would say more. And Todd was happy to oblige.

'We vowed that we'll never stop selling wands to Muggle-borns,' Todd said quietly, staring the barman down. 'So no matter how much your lot want to pressure us to do otherwise, we're magically bound to never betray our integrity.'

The barman couldn't keep the disinterested look on his face anymore. He was staring, dumbfounded, at Todd, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard, that he couldn't believe Todd was so stupid.

'Clever, isn't it?' Todd said, raising his eyebrows, the cigarette still in his mouth. He was enjoying playing the fool. He tapped his temple and blew out the smoke off to the side. 'Cheers, mate,' he said, plunking down four Galleons and picking up the crate that was now full of wine bottles.

He made his way back over to Deirdre, nearly strutting with glee at how perfectly everything had been executed. Now he just needed to wait for the news to spread, and he'd get to read a transcript of each person's reaction as it did. Not only would he get an opportunity to 'overhear' Dark wizards debate whether an Unbreakable Vow was an obstacle for them or not, but he might even get to hear murmurings of any potential plans to either take advantage of it or to thwart it.

'I didn't know you smoked now.'

Todd plopped back into his chair. 'Now and then I do.' He cocked his head, raising his eyebrows and the fag. 'If I recall, you certainly do.'

Deirdre smiled, offering her hand to accept the cigarette, which Todd passed to her. She took a slow drag, eyes closed, and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over a chair she had pulled alongside her as she blew out the smoke. They were at that odd age, sharing ice lollies and cigarettes alike.

She watched the smoke curl from the end of the cigarette, holding it lightly in her hand. 'Bonfire Night isn't my favourite holiday, you know.'

'Oh? It's not?'

'Nope. You only think it is because you likely have a very fond memory of me telling you at Hogwarts that I really missed Bonfire Night.'

Todd crossed his arms and chuckled, gazing across the room. 'Do I? I can't possibly imagine what you're referring to.'

She passed the cigarette back to him with a smile, and he took another drag. Todd and Deirdre's brief relationship had begun one night when the Hogwarts Astronomy professor had given the Sixth Years permission to make some late-night calculations for a project. He'd found Deirdre, a Seventh Year, up there, gazing at the stars. She didn't take Astronomy.

Todd and Deirdre had known each other all their lives, and he'd fancied her in a vague way. In the way that boys knew which girl in town was the prettiest. The two of them had never really talked. Todd had always assumed Derek would be the one to win her over.

But the two of them had struck up a conversation on the Astronomy Tower that night, each feeling a bit homesick. It had been November, and they'd talked about how much they missed celebrating Guy Fawkes Day in Diagon Alley, one of the few days the alley's residents could shoot off fireworks without arousing any Muggle suspicion in London. She'd shrieked as he'd set off a firework on the Astronomy Tower with his wand, a miniature silver dragon that swirled around her gracefully before soaring high above them and exploding in the air, and she'd kissed him as silver sparks rained down on them. He'd performed a Warming Charm on the two of them as they'd snogged in the cold...

'Reminiscing?' Deirdre said with a smile, looking across the table at Todd who was still gazing out across the pub.

He glanced at her before he extinguished the cigarette into a sleek, black glass ash tray at the table. 'Nah,' he said with a shrug.

Deirdre ran her finger over the rim of her wine glass slowly. 'You know... sometimes I... I regret that I broke things off...'

Deirdre's wand suddenly slipped out of the pocket of her robes and flew across the room. She blinked, in that second not understanding what was happening like Todd did. He had felt his wand attempt to leap out of his robes as well, but he had slammed his hand firmly against his chest, not allowing it to leave his person. His training was kicking in now, like muscle memory.

He put up a dome-shaped Shield Charm around the two of them just in time, as something exploded against it, and Deirdre screamed. Todd could see now that it was an old warlock in the corner of the pub who was trying to hex them.

'How dare you show your faces in here, blood-traitors!' he croaked.

Training dictated that now was the time to Apparate. No better defence than getting the fuck away from your attacker, that's what Todd had always been taught. But the warlock still had Deirdre's wand.

Against his better judgment, Todd shrunk his Shield Charm slightly so that they were still protected in the direction of the warlock, but it was no longer dome-shaped. He now had the space to conjure a white, hot ball of energy that spun up and out and toward the barman, who yelled angrily and ducked, before it bent in the air toward the warlock not from magic but from sheer aerodynamic force. The orb hit the warlock and brought him down, hard, and despite the fight-or-flight adrenaline pumping through Todd's veins, he winced and resisted the urge to say, 'So sorry!' He might've responded with a bit more force than was necessary for an old man. The other witches and wizards in the pub seemed to feel the same way and were shouting at Todd and producing their own wands.

With a quick flick, Deirdre's wand flew into Todd's outstretched hand. Neither of his hands were free now, so he simply took Deirdre in his arms and turned on the spot with her.

* * *

Todd had never seen Deirdre cry before, but tonight she sobbed into his shoulder on a bench in Diagon Alley for a long time.

'We have to get out of here,' she said, weeping as she accepted Todd's offered handkerchief. 'Why does anyone stay? I don't understand!'

Todd was never one to keep his mouth shut when he knew the answer to a question, even though he knew Deirdre didn't want to hear it. 'Because if we leave, they win,' he said softly.

'Well, if they kill us, they win too!' Deirdre said angrily, dabbing at her eyes.

'It's a war,' Todd said, shrugging helplessly. 'Some people are going to die. But if we stand together, we have a chance of —'

'God!' Deirdre burst out. 'You're just like my dad! I forgot how infuriating it was to listen to this, when you and I were together. If there was an army, you'd enlist immediately, wouldn't you? You just want to be some big war hero!'

'The Ministry _ought_ to draft an army, it's mad that we haven't! We could've put an end to all this bullshit years ago if we had! And, yes, I would enlist immediately, not because I want glory but because I don't want the world to be ruled by His Excellency the Lord Snake-Face, I don't understand why that's so —'

'Todd, you have to be careful!' Deirdre was pleading with him now. 'Even using stupid names like that — they'll kill you for stuff like that!'

Todd sighed. 'Look. We just need to stay out of Knockturn Alley,' he said, keeping it to himself that, actually, he needed to figure out how to return in a few days' time without showing his face now. Despite the commotion, the warlock's attack seemed unconnected to Todd's little eavesdropping plot. As far as Todd could tell, the typewriter was likely safe. 'We're safe as long as we stay out of there —'

'That's not true and you know it.'

They two of them sat in silence for a while, Deirdre still sniffling a bit.

'Maggie was carrying around this book for a while, that she was reading this summer,' Todd said slowly. 'Something about the _unsung heroes who resisted and weakened Grindelwald before his fall_. The Enduring Light. So many people are in there. Ollivander's is in there! It's important, to stand together. To fight.'

Deirdre shook her head derisively. 'Think they all twisted the pickle jar for Dumbledore, do you?'

'Well... that's a weird way of putting it,' Todd said with a grin, 'but, yeah, in a sense. Yeah.'

'People will do literally anything they think is helpful, during times of good versus evil. When they're not doing anything useful at all. They're just antogonizing the other side. Making things worse.'

'So it's best to do nothing at all?'

Deirdre didn't reply. She handed his handkerchief back to him, and he reached into his robes to return her wand to her. She muttered a quiet 'good-night' before the two of them walked in opposite directions back to their flats above their shops, each pondering what the other had said, but neither thinking the other was right.


	22. The Longbottoms

Alice could tell from the silly little knock at her and Frank's front door that, not only was Maggie here, but she was likely in a very good mood and also possibly a little tipsy.

'All right, Harper,' Maggie said cheerily, forgetting to use Alice's married name. Robbie, who was standing behind her, gave a happy wave. It wasn't nearly cold enough for them to be as pink in the face as they were, and Alice grinned as she let them inside her and Frank's Hogsmeade cottage.

'I'm guessing you two nipped to the Three Broomsticks first before coming here?'

'Just for a quick glass of firewhisky,' Maggie said.

'Or two,' Robbie said.

'Or three,' Maggie said, pulling an exaggerated face that made Alice crack up.

' _Technically_ , you know, students aren't allowed to get drunk during Hogsmeade trips,' Alice teased as they hung up their cloaks on the coat rack.

'Oh, you and I both know the professors look the other way as long as you're of age,' Maggie said, waving this away.

'You just can't be obvious about it,' Robbie said, as he stumbled just slightly into the Longbottoms' sitting room, where Frank was sitting on the sofa with Neville.

'Well, good thing you're not being obvious about it,' Alice said wryly.

'We brought you the firewhisky we bought,' Maggie said, producing a bottle of liquor from her robes, 'as a little housewarming gift for you and Frank.'

Alice accepted it, snorting at the less than half-full bottle.

'Alice,' Frank said, shooting an apologetic look at their guests, 'I know it feels silly, but if you could think up a quick couple security questions...?' He had the baby propped up in his arm, and Neville was happily hitting the picture book Frank was holding in front of him. 'There's a reason we have to —'

'Right, right, sorry sorry,' Alice said, turning to Maggie in mock sternness. 'Maggie, I told you in a letter ages ago, before Neville, about this advanced seduction technique I've learned, being with Frank. What was it?'

'It's the advanced seduction technique known as Taking Your Top Off,' Maggie said, grinning, and Robbie tried to mask a laugh as a cough. 'You said it has a one hundred per cent effectiveness rate, Taking Your Top Off.'

Frank said something mildly about _could've just asked her about her first pet or something_ as the two witches laughed and hugged.

'And Robbie,' Alice continued, bringing her hand to her face as she racked her brains, 'I think I'll just ask you something about Maggie... What's the name of the district in London where she grew up?'

'Er, he won't know that,' Maggie said, looking nervously to her boyfriend, who seemed to be at a loss.

'Right... well... who's her favourite Quidditch player?'

'Astrid Alstroemeria,' he said, brightening again. 'One of the Beaters for the Harpies.'

'Correct,' Alice said, settling back down on the sofa with Frank as Neville gurgled.

'How's my favourite, tiny person?' Maggie said, as she crouched next to Neville, smiling as he took her finger tightly in his fist. 'Have you been good? Finally letting your parents sleep a bit now?'

Frank shot Maggie a half-amused, half-agonized look as he shook his head.

'Asking a couple trivia questions is the most pathetic security system,' Alice said good-naturedly, kissing her son several times swiftly on his head. 'I much prefer the idea that Ollivander's came up with, to put up a Thief's Downfall. Why don't we do something like that, Frank?'

'It's Goblin magic, it's incredibly ancient. Almost other-worldly,' Frank said thoughtfully. 'To be honest, I didn't even know wizards could pull it off. It's bloody impressive that Jack Coakley could.'

Robbie rubbed his eyes, looking irritated. 'It'd be nice if I could go a couple of hours this entire term without listening to people talk about Ollivander's.'

Alice raised her eyebrows incredulously at Maggie, who gave her a small eyeroll and wave of her hand as if to say, _Let's not get into it._

'It's her _job,_ Robbie,' Alice said, feeling indignant on Maggie's behalf, 'and a bloody extraordinary one at that. Who _wouldn't_ want to talk about something like that after being brought on? And what kind of boyfriend wouldn't want to hear about it?'

Robbie said nothing, glowering at the kitchen. 'We brought Cauldron Cakes with us. Shall I put the kettle on?'

'Sure, cheers Robbie,' Frank said happily, pointing in the direction of their kitchen. Alice smiled sadly, understanding Frank's cheerfulness, at his basking in the banality of entertaining a bickering couple with his wife and son after spending a week away from home battling — and, though Alice trembled at the thought, _burning_ , more than likely — armies of Inferi with Edgar Bones and Benjy Fenwick. She kissed Frank softly on his temple, her lips lingering there for a moment. He closed his eyes, leaning into her with a small, quiet sigh as he stroked the soft hairs on Neville's head.

Maggie watched them steadily, her feet tucked up under herself in an armchair. 'How are things progressing?' she asked quietly as Robbie busied himself in the kitchen in the other room. 'With the war?'

Frank laughed humourlessly. 'Progressing is... probably not the most apt word,' he said. 'Not for our side, at least.'

'You're just so outnumbered,' Maggie murmured, looking pained. 'And meanwhile, the Death Eaters fight with masks, while the Order —'

'We know who they are, just as well as they know who we are,' Alice said firmly. 'We don't need to fight in the shadows like they do, they'd find us out anyway.'

'I'll be honest, Alice and I are trying to lie a bit low these days, though,' Frank said. 'After last week, I... I've... defied Voldemort twice now, and Alice has as well, on separate occasions of her own. We can't do it again, not any time soon.'

Maggie's brow was furrowed. 'You don't want to defy him again? I don't understand, isn't that exactly the point of the Order of the Phoenix? To defy You-Know-Who as many times as possible?'

'Personally, I'm not afraid to thrice defy him,' Alice said, smiling at Frank as they shared their grim little inside joke. 'If I put my mind to it, I think I could knock out a couple of defiances in a day, make us parents who have defied Voldemort four times, or five. Take us out of the danger zone.'

Understandably, Maggie looked completely bewildered by this absurd statement.

'Ignore us,' Frank said kindly, shifting Neville to more of a cradling position as he began getting a bit fussy. 'Neither of us have had a full night's sleep since this one was born, we're not really able to form coherent sentences these days.'

'I don't know how mums handle it with more than one,' Alice groaned, rubbing her eyes.

'We'll figure it out. We'll have to.'

Maggie's jaw dropped. 'You're not...? Pregnant? Again?'

'God no,' Alice said, feeling overwhelmed at the mere suggestion. 'In a year or two though... yeah, we are hoping to have another one.'

'And another one. And another one. And another one,' Frank said, making animated faces at the baby, who looked simultaneously freaked out and delighted by his father's behaviour.

'Are you?' Maggie said, laughing incredulously. 'Have you consulted Alice on this at all?'

'The Weasleys said they're going for five, or until they have a girl,' Alice said with a shrug. 'I've taken it as a sort of challenge.'

'We can't let the gingers take over, Maggie,' Frank said in mock seriousness.

'The _real_ reason,' Alice said, smiling, 'is that Frank and I both hated being only children.'

'It's — the — absolute — worst,' Frank said happily to Neville, emphasizing each word with an exaggerated smile again.

'We want a big family. The Longbottom clan has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? And you'll be big brother to them all, won't that be fun?' Alice said, leaning on Frank as she joined him in making faces at Neville.

Robbie returned with a tray of steaming teacups and a plate stacked high with Cauldron Cakes, and Alice pouted a bit as Frank handed off Neville to her while he grabbed a cup. They both knew she'd have to breastfeed Neville in less than an hour, and neither of them wanted to attempt to put a caffeinated baby to sleep this evening.

'So Robbie,' Frank said innocently as he he stirred sugar into his tea, 'why are you so fed up with hearing about Ollivander's these days?'

Alice quirked an eyebrow at her husband out of the corner of her eye as she held their son. When they were at school, Frank couldn't have cared less about the drama and gossip of others' dating lives. But with the stresses of the war, lately he seemed to let off steam by casually tossing a lit firecracker into a volatile social situation (such as, say, a love triangle). Maybe they ought to start subscribing to _Witch Weekly_ , Alice thought with a snort, if this was how her husband got his kicks now.

Maggie shot Frank an exasperated look and mouthed _'Seriously?'_ as Robbie shrugged grumpily. 'I'd be perfectly thrilled for Maggie if Todd Ollivander would just stop writing to her,' he grumbled.

'He's written me _one_ letter all term, that's it.'

'Well, he started it off by immediately calling me an idiot.'

'He didn't call you an idiot. He said you were misinformed.'

'He wrote, "Robbie is an idiot", put a _very thin_ strikethrough line through "an idiot" before writing "misinformed". I'm not certain, but I'd think if that git can make wands then he likely knows how to perform a basic ink-erasing charm.'

Alice thought she saw Maggie's lips twitch, though she might've imagined it because a second later Maggie's face had returned to its sympathetic expression.

'Why does Todd think Robbie's misinformed, Maggie?' Frank asked cheerfully. All right, darling, let's take it down a notch, Alice thought.

Maggie sighed (it was really more of a groan), shooting a reluctant look at Robbie, who simply frowned back at her. 'Robbie was... very concerned, when I told him that there's an aspect of a wand creation incantation that involves adding your own blood. He said it was an indication of Dark magic. Honestly, I thought the same thing, when I first learnt of it! But Coakley told me that that's a common misconception, to think that blood can only create something evil. But Robbie got all worked up, and he got _me_ all worked up,' said Maggie, who seemed to be rambling a bit out of exasperation, 'so I was really desperate to discuss my concerns with someone, and well, I already knew what Coakley was going to say, he and I had already talked about it already... and Todd was the second person I thought of...' Maggie finished weakly. She seemed to agree with Robbie, to some extent, that she probably should've picked someone else at Ollivander's to write to. 'Todd _did_ say that most witches and wizards think of blood as only to be used in Dark potions, so it's really common for people to be a little unnerved by it when they first hear of it. He was essentially coming to your defence by the end of it. You ought to know,' and here Alice detected the faintest trace of annoyance in Maggie's voice, 'you read the entire thing after secretly nicking that letter from me.'

 _'No_ ,' Robbie said mulishly, 'by the end of it, he was detailing that he's trying to convince his dad to use some specific dragon heartstring in an upcoming wand and asking how your classes are going and telling you that Coakley misses you terribly. Right,' he added sarcastically, 'I'm sure it's _Coakley_ who misses you terribly.'

'That actually meant a lot to me, to hear that Coakley's missing me terribly,' said Maggie, who looked a bit hurt. 'But you're right, Todd probably just made that up —'

'Don't try to turn this around, Maggie!'

Maggie sighed, finally looking as put-out as Robbie did now. Alice was openly shaking her head at her husband now, who was calmly sipping his tea.

'Are you happy now?' she muttered.

'Hm?' he said, turning to her with a smile.

All four of them started as if electrocuted as the sound of dozens of blood-curdling screams came faintly from outside. The commotion couldn't be more than a dozen cottages away. Frank's teacup shattered on the floor as he jumped to his feet, wand ready and breathing loudly.

There was no time for conversation. Frank wrenched the front door open and was gone almost immediately. Robbie and Maggie raced to the window.

'It's definitely a Death Eater attack,' Robbie said, his face white. 'They're wearing masks and everything.'

The two of them fled to the door as well, but Robbie blocked Maggie's way.

'No,' he said firmly. The hand that he held out to stop her was shaking slightly. 'I'll go. You stay here.'

'Robbie, there's no time for this!' Maggie said angrily.

'NO! Maggie, it's too dangerous, I won't —'

'If anyone should be staying it should be you! Alice and Frank are Aurors, and I've been practising duelling all summer!'

 _'Me?'_ he repeated incredulously.

'Robbie if we've lost crucial seconds because of this, I swear to god...' She pushed past him through the door, running out into the Hogsmeade streets, and Robbie ran after her.

Alice was already across the room, placing Neville in the smaller crib they had in the sitting room. She was shaking with fear and adrenaline, and Neville was screaming loudly now, unnerved by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

'It's all right, love, it's all right it's all right,' Alice coaxed in a trembling voice, placing him carefully down. _'Protego Totallum.'_ She wanted to cast a Disillusionment Charm and _Muffliato_ as well, but Alice couldn't be certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that if they were all killed that Augusta would find him in time if there were too many protective charms around him. Ignoring Neville's cries and blinking back tears, Alice left the cottage as well, locking the door behind her with her wand, and fled in the direction of the pandemonium.

Alice heard the distinctive shriek that only torture produces. The Dearborns' cottage was on fire, and the Dark Mark was already hovering above their roof.

 _'Stupefy!'_ Alice screamed, toppling one of the masked wizards. _'Protego!'_ She put up the Shield Charm just in time, as a different Death Eater tried to take her out as she approached. The shield bobbed with her as she ran.

Maggie was dousing the house with a tremendous amount of water from her wand. Alice stopped breathing for a moment as she heard someone shriek the beginnings of a Killing Curse, but without even looking where it was coming from, Maggie twisted on the spot and the jet of green light hit the place she'd been standing half a second ago.

Maggie reappeared, unscathed, alongside Alice. 'Want to use that modification of the Stunning Spell you and Lily used in my Fourth Year after Avery and the rest of those Slytherins called me a Mudblood?' she asked, breathing hard.

'Absolutely,' Alice said darkly, and the two women stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Alice pointed her wand and Maggie took her hand in her own, lining their two wands up. Frank, who was duelling a masked Death Eater, recognised, wide-eyed, what they were about to do and Apparated on the spot. The two witches screamed _'Stupefy!'_ and produced a blast from their wands that sounded like a bomb and made their robes billow back violently. The spell didn't discriminate, knocking the majority of the crowd back — Death Eaters and those fighting them, including Robbie.

Some of them were unconscious, the rest dazed and bowled over, and Alice and Maggie had an opportunity to race toward the Dearborns' house, where they could still hear a scream of agony. Frank reappeared beside them out of thin air, running by their side.

Alice burst the front door open. The rooftop fire was out, but the house was still full of smoke. Maggie sent a jet of air through the house to try to clear it, but the smoke continued to pervade the air as they raced in the direction of the screams, coughing and covering their mouths with their robes.

'They're in the back garden,' Frank said tightly, his voice muffled in his sleeve as he pointed. He was right. The three of them stumbled to the back of the cottage. Maggie cast a non-verbal Shield Charm before they wrenched the back door open, to find a masked, female Death Eater with an endless mass of black curls using the Cruciatus Curse on Fiona Dearborn.

 _'Expeliarmus!'_ the Death Eater screamed, and while Frank's and Alice's wands flew out of their hands, to Alice's astonishment Maggie lunged forward to snatch hers back and shouted _'Expeliarmus!'_ back. The Death Eater lost her wand, and Frank and Alice's flew back toward them. Maggie didn't bother to catch them. While Frank reached out to catch his wand, Alice went for the Death Eater's wand. She took it in her hands and snapped it in two.

'CAN'T TORTURE ANYONE NOW, YOU BITCH!'

The Death Eater shrieked in agony, as if it had been her arm that Alice had snapped, and furiously lunged for Alice, but Frank struck her with a Full-Body Bind Hex, and the woman dropped onto the grass.

Alice rushed to Fiona Dearborn, who was gasping in shuddering breaths on the ground. 'Fiona, it's all right, it's over now —'

'They took my husband!' she cried. 'They took Caradoc, they Disapparated with him!'

'Alice, go back to Neville,' Frank said firmly, his face as white as a sheet. 'I'll stay with Fiona.'

'I've got to make sure Robbie's safe,' Maggie said desperately, running back into the smoky house.

Before Alice followed her, she clutched Frank's arm.

'That's thrice,' she whispered helplessly as Fiona Dearborn sobbed on the ground, feet away from the paralysed Death Eater.

'I know,' he said, his voice breaking as he looked at Alice, his eyes full of distress. 'I know.'

* * *

Maggie was regretting lending Todd her enchanted typewriter, she thought as she neared the end of her N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class, her quill poised over a completely blank notebook page as she watched Professor McGonagall's lips move without understanding.

'Your homework will be to perform human Transfiguration on yourself before our class tomorrow,' Professor McGonagall said. 'Points will be awarded to those whom I'm unable to identify. If any of you plan to transfigure yourself before breakfast, I'd advise you to alert your professors ahead of time,' she said mildly, 'so they don't attack you out of a fear that you are an interloper.'

The students stood up, gathering their things, and after a couple of seconds Maggie copied their actions, zombie-like.

'Miss Gibson?' Professor McGonagall said as Maggie slung her rucksack over her shoulder. 'A word.'

Maggie felt ice trickle through her veins. 'Is Robbie all right?' she said, frozen on the spot with dread. 'He seemed all right when we got out of Hogsmeade yesterday! Oh god, he wasn't hit with any delayed-action curses, was he —?'

'Mr Ellerby is perfectly fine,' Professor McGonagall reassured Maggie. 'As Madam Pomfrey confirmed yesterday, you both managed to escape from yesterday's attack completely unscathed, by some miracle.' Professor McGonagall seemed to be trying to scold Maggie, but her voice betrayed deep concern, more than anything else. Maggie and Robbie were both of age, they were allowed to become entangled in the war if they wanted to. Hogsmeade trips were now canceled indefinitely, anyway, after yesterday's events. 'No, Professor Dumbledore asked me to send you to his office, after my class. He said he'd like to see you straight away.'

'Oh,' Maggie said, bewildered. She wondered if he wanted to use Simon's London flat again for an Order meeting to debrief after the attack.

'The password to his office is Jaffa Cake.'

'Oh OK, I'll head...' Maggie stopped, blinking in confusion. 'Did you just say it's... _Jaffa Cake?'_

Professor McGonagall sighed in exasperation. 'Professor Dumbledore always seems to be... enamored with one Muggle sweet or another. As of late, it appears that he's taken to these chocolate Muggle cakes, I suppose.'

'The question is, is whether it's actually a _cake_ or a _biscuit,'_ Maggie said, suddenly animated. 'It's quite the debate, in the Muggle community. Because it's _packaged_ like a biscuit and it's _shaped_ like a biscuit, but it's _called_ a cake and it's really sort of spongey, so...' She trailed off at the perplexed expression on Professor McGonagall's face. 'I'll — I'm on my way now,' she said, picking her books up sheepishly.

'Thank you.'

* * *

Maggie thought Professor Dumbledore might appreciate an earnest debate about Jaffa Cakes, though she knew she'd never muster the courage to bring it up in the renowned headmaster's presence. And Dumbledore's reason for summoning her turned out to be anything but the sort of atmosphere to have a lighthearted cake-or-biscuit debate, anyway.

When Maggie arrived, Frank and Alice were sitting, ashen-faced, in Dumbledore's bright office. Fawkes let out a low, soft, musical cry that seemed like a sort-of greeting when Maggie entered, and Maggie couldn't help but smile slightly to see the phoenix once again. But her smile quickly faded when she saw just how grave her friends looked, and how somber Dumbledore looked.

'Miss Gibson,' Dumbledore began, 'I assume you're familiar with the new Divination instructor, Professor Trelawney?'

'Er... yes?' Maggie said. She didn't take Divination, but she knew Trelawney had gotten less-than-stellar reviews from her fellow Ravenclaws, especially the Sixth and Seventh Years who were extremely sceptical the new professor was adequately preparing them for their Divination N.E.W.T. 'What's she got to do with all of this?'

'Everything,' Frank said heavily as Alice raised her fearful eyes to Maggie's.

* * *

Maggie shook her head doubtfully. 'But prophecies aren't reliable things. They can be misleading, wavering, even wrong sometimes. You-Know-Who must know this.'

'I sincerely doubt Lord Voldemort is willing to take any chances, to let this prophecy go ignored,' Dumbledore said grimly. 'He will almost certainly want to eliminate anyone he believes has the slightest chance of threatening his power.'

'We've got to go into hiding now,' Alice said quietly, looking at her feet. 'Neville's not safe if we don't.'

'Lily and James already went into hiding,' Frank said to Maggie. 'They've thrice defied Voldemort as well. They've settled in somewhere that's protected by the Fidelius Charm, and someone's Secret-Keeper for them so that no one will be able to find them.'

Maggie was drinking all of this in carefully, her eyes glued to the speakers in horror as they explained the doomed situation her friend had found themselves in, but there had been a nagging thought in the back of her head throughout the entire meeting, asking why they were telling her all of this. Now, it clicked.

'And you want me to be your Secret-Keeper,' she said softly.

Alice and Frank, looking distressed and uncertain, turned to Dumbledore.

'You were the first person the Longbottoms suggested when the question was raised,' he said. 'I, too, think it's an ideal choice. You'll be under my protection, under Hogwarts' protection, for one more year, and then after that you'll be in the midst of extremely skilled witches and wizards at Ollivander's who should also be able to protect you. And, as was made clear yesterday, you've proven yourself capable when under attack.'

'It was only suggested as a possibility, Maggie,' Alice said quickly, shakily. 'We're not even sure we want to go through with this, and you're not obligated in any way to —'

'I'll do it,' Maggie said. She looked at Alice and Frank, the only two people she'd ever known to be such brave fighters and, at the same time, so incredibly, fiercely kind. Just looking at them, at their pained, reluctant faces, seeing how broken up they were, to be torn between protecting their friend and protecting their child, Maggie knew that if there were ever any two people in the world worth risking your life for, it was Frank and Alice Longbottom.

'I must impress upon you, Miss Gibson, what it means, to agree to this,' said Dumbledore, who looked grayer and more somber than Maggie had ever seen him before. 'To be a Secret-Keeper is nothing short of declaring your willingness to, if necessary, die for your friends.'

'I would,' she said softly.

Silent tears began to fall down Alice's face, and Frank gripped her hand tightly. 'It wasn't even worth it,' Alice choked out, 'what we did yesterday. It was all for nothing.'

'But we took out a Death Eater!' Maggie said, encouraging her fiercely. 'Frank paralysed the masked woman out in the garden, and that's not nothing —'

'She got away,' Frank said dully.

Maggie gaped at him. 'But — _how_...?'

'Fiona needed help walking, I had to get her to a neighbour's. I came back quickly, but the Death Eater was already gone. Someone clearly found her and nullified the jinx,' he said bitterly.

'It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a pointless act,' Dumbledore said firmly. 'Thanks to your actions, Mrs Longbottom, Mrs Dearborn was likely saved from a fate much worse than what she encountered. And this Death Eater is now without a wand, which I believe will make her far less useful to Lord Voldemort's cause for some time. Her broken wand is useful to us as well; I've sent the pieces to Mr Ollivander, and I'm quite confident that he'll be able to identify its owner.

'Now,' the headmaster continued, sighing heavily, 'let's go over what a Fidelius Charm entails.'


	23. Todd’s Plan, Pt 2

_Todd,_

 _Thanks for your reassurances, it was a real weight off my shoulders to hear (again) that wands aren't made through Dark magic. Classes are going well, though I'm a bit di_ _stracted. It's now impossible for everyone at Hogwarts to ignore the war and danger going on outside the castle_ _w_ _alls. I vi_ _si_ _ted Alice and Frank last week in H_ _og_ _smeade, that_ _was_ _nice._ _W_ _ish I could say more, but you know everyone has to be particularly careful __w_ _hat they put in their letters these days._

 _How are thing_ _s_ _progre_ _s_ _sing_ _at Ollivander'_ _s? Is your dad letting you participate in things a bit more now and finally teaching you how to pair wands with wizards? Professor_ _Dumbledore asked me to tell Miss Kim to 'remember holly' the next time I see her. That was a bit baffling, I've no idea what that's about._

 _Also, i_ _s Coakley really missing me, or are you just saying that to be polite? You don't have to say that if it's not true._

 _Stay safe and don't let things get you down,_

 _Maggie_

'What are you smiling about?' Derek said as he emerged from the back room of Slug & Jiggers.

'Hm?' Todd said, looking up from Maggie's letter. 'Nothing.'

'I don't know why I even ask,' Derek said with a touch of exasperation as he stepped behind the counter. 'I always know exactly who you're thinking about whenever you've got that look on your face.'

'It's the same look you get on your face whenever you're around the new girl at the shop here,' Todd said slyly, tucking Maggie's letter into a pocket of his robes.

'Keep your voice down,' Derek hissed, uncharacteristically nervous as he looked behind his back to check that Sarah Scamander wasn't there. 'I've never wanted this for myself. Are you happy now? Now that we're in the same bloody unrequited love boat?'

'Yes,' Todd said cheerfully. 'Misery loves company.'

'Well I'd love to drown our sorrows at the Leaky Cauldron,' Derek said grumpily, 'but Daddy has decided to ground you for some reason, and you feel the need to follow all his rules like you're twelve...'

'I have to pick my battles right now. I'll convince him that it's fine for me to go back to the pub eventually, but right now I need to convince him of other things. It's a short-term sacrifice, it's worth it.'

'It's quite a sacrifice,' Derek grumbled.

'Malkin, take _Sarah_ to the pub if you're itching for a pint so much! You've got the perfect excuse — "My best mate's being a fanny about the war and doesn't go out anymore. Come join me so I don't have to drink alone".'

'I have asked her,' he muttered. 'She's said no.'

'Oh...' Todd smiled sympathetically. Rather than feeling bad for Derek, however, Todd felt a wave of empathy toward Sarah. Todd was beginning to fully understand just how awkward it must be for witches, when wizards try to flirt with them at work. Severus Snape was gone, so it was just Sarah, Derek and their boss at the apothecary now. This poor witch was just trying to build a career for herself, and she had to deal with some idiot bloke stumbling over himself trying to win her over.

Todd self-consciously tapped the pocket containing Maggie's letter and sighed. He really needed to meet some new people. Outside work.

But Derek took Todd's sigh to be vicarious anxiety on his behalf, and he waved Todd's concern away. 'It's fine, mate. She's still fifty times the office mate that Snape was. I just like being around her, even if she won't have me.'

'Yeah, I still can't believe Snape got the Potions Master post,' Todd said with disbelief. 'He's our age, he's only a few years older than some of the final year students at Hogwarts. What was Dumbledore thinking?'

'I know! Snape was a skilled potions-maker, but still... He's got to be one of the youngest professors Hogwarts has ever hired.'

'And with one of the most sparkling and vivacious personalities!' Todd said enthusiastically, making Derek crack up. 'I don't envy those students.'

'So, Mr Ollivander,' Derek said, folding his hands at the counter, 'have you come here for the latest gossip, or is there anything practical I can help you with today?'

'There are two things I need,' Todd said slowly, scanning the shelves behind Derek. 'Fog powder and a dosage bubble.'

'That's an odd combination,' Derek said, raising an eyebrow as he turned around to find the things Todd asked for. 'As a licenced apothecary, I should probably tell you that it's unadvisable to fill your guts with fog.'

'That's not what I'm planning,' Todd said mysteriously.

'I assumed,' Derek said, in a voice that said _I don't want to know._ He placed a bottle of glinting, silvery powder in front of Todd, along with the small dosage bubble that witches and wizards used to imbibe potions that couldn't, for one reason or another, go down your throat directly. 'That'll be five Galleons, eleven Sickles and nine Knuts.'

Todd paid and walked back out into Diagon Alley. He could hear the faint sounds of an ambulance out in Muggle London as he walked past the wizarding shops, and he waved cheerily to Madam Malkin who was walking in the other direction across the way when he caught sight of her. He'd been cross with her for a sum total of two whole days last summer before fondness for her took hold again. He could never be angry with Derek's sweet mum for very long. He also tipped his hat with a smile to Higgins as they passed each other as well. What was the point of holding grudges? Life was short. And Diagon Alley was small.

He approached Ollivander's, a CLOSED sign hanging in the window. He unlocked the shop, which held shortened hours and by-appointments when it wasn't the summer, holding his breath as he walked under the Thief's Downfall. He dried himself off with his wand and made his way up the spiral staircase to the third-story flat, where Todd's dad, Coakley and Miss Kim were having their daily 3 o'clock meeting over tea at the kitchen table. Todd noticed that they were huddled around the pieces of a broken wand and that they lowered their voices considerably when he came up.

He placed his purchases on the kitchen counter, with his back to them, and took out his wand and tapped the dosage bubble. It curled open once his wand made contact with it and looked like a tiny bubble bowl that a fairy might use.

'Todd, didn't I ask you to carve all those blocks of holly wood for me?' his dad asked, turning around in his chair to look at his son. 'I'll need those today.'

'Finished that by eleven this morning,' Todd said, not looking up as he focused on the work before him. He read the label on the bottle of fog powder carefully before unstoppering the cork.

'I also asked you to write to several people abroad,' he continued pointedly, 'who had enquired about making appointments with us.'

Todd fished several pieces of parchment out of his robes, walking over to his father. 'Here are the letters I wrote to the Italian bloke... to the family from Stockholm...' Todd said, patiently handing them to his father one by one. 'To the Aurors in Istanbul... although I reckon the Aurors are just trying to get a quote from us so they can negotiate a better price with Gregorovitch... I ran the letters through with translation charms — except for the Swedes, since they reached out to us in English — and I gave the translated letters a quick read with Italian and Turkish dictionaries down at Charing Cross Library just to be sure, and that all checked out... And,' Todd fished out one last piece of parchment, 'this is a timetable of when you're to meet with all of them, and if there's anything you want to move around, I can easily edit the letters before I send them out.'

'Marvellous,' Mr Ollivander muttered, frowning at the letters in his hands.

'I live to serve,' Todd said cheekily with a flourished bow, before returning to the counter. He held the bottle of fog powder carefully, pouring all its contents into the open bubble that received all the powder easily, thanks to an Undetectable Extension Charm.

'So what dae we dae when Bellatrix Black comes by, looking tae buy a new wand?' Coakley said quietly, as the three of them returned to whatever the topic of their meeting was.

Todd's dad sighed through his nose. 'We sell her one, I suppose.'

'Well I don't think we should dae that,' Coakley said, still speaking softly.

'What alternative do we have?'

Todd listened carefully as he continued to work. He muttered _'Aguamenti,'_ pointing his wand at the bubble, and the powder reacted to the water quickly, turning into thick, swirling fog, before Todd hastily closed the bubble back up with a tap of his wand.

Todd held the small bubble between his fingers in front of his face, studying it, before he shook it vigorously, stopped, and watched the contents swirl like a crystal ball.

'Maybe she won't come by,' Miss Kim suggested. 'Maybe she'll use someone else's, or go to Gregorovitch instead.'

'Why would she do that?' Todd's dad responded wearily. 'There's no reason she should avoid us, she doesn't know that we know what she's done or who she is. I wish Albus had never sent us this blasted wand.'

'There's nae expectation for us tae take any action. He simply wanted us tae identify it.'

'Dumbledore would never be so straightforward,' Miss Kim said sardonically.

'You could give her a bad wand,' Todd said hesitantly, turning around and gripping the counter's edge with his hands as he leaned on it. Between the context clues he was picking up, along with the name of Bellatrix Black, he assumed they had to be debating whether to sell a new wand to a Dark witch. 'Or, at least, an inferior wand. Rather than just refusing her straight away. That way, it looks like we're complying, but we're actually secretly undermining them.'

'We've considered that,' Miss Kim said with a sad smile, while Todd's dad looked a bit annoyed as his son butted into their meeting. 'But it seems likely she, or potentially even Lord Voldemort himself, would figure it out eventually. There could still be dire consequences.'

Miss Kim had a point. Todd considered this for a while, trying to come up with another idea, but he came up blank. 'How did her wand get snapped? And how did we get it?'

'Alice Longbottom snapped it during a confrontation,' Miss Kim said, before Garrick Ollivander could shush her. She shot her boss an apologetic look. 'I don't think there's any harm in telling him, Garrick.'

'We were planning tae write tae Maggie for details,' Coakley said to Todd. 'We heard she was fighting alongside Alice at the time.'

'What?' Todd said, taken aback. He reflexively pulled out Maggie's letter and scanned it, baffled. 'I just got a letter from her today. She didn't mention anything like that to me.'

'What did she say?' Coakley said, standing up to peer over Todd's shoulder, but Todd folded the parchment in half.

'It's a private letter,' Todd muttered.

'Oh aye, aye,' Coakley said, smirking and plucking the letter from Todd's hands as he protested. 'Full of sentences you're reading far too much intae, lad, I'm sure...' Coakley frowned as he skimmed the letter. 'Hm, you're right... She must've thought it too risky tae share the details... that's really for the best, honestly, clever of her tae be careful...' He chuckled. 'She doesnae believe you, that I've been moping around the workshop since she's been away?'

'She does have an odd habit of doubting herself at every turn, doesn't she?' Todd responded, in spite of his annoyance at the breach in privacy.

'I cannae wait till she returns, honestly. I'd forgotten how bloody booring this job is withoot an apprentice.'

'I can always increase your wand quotas, Jack, if you feel unchallenged,' Todd's dad said with a raised eyebrow.

'Och, away you go,' Coakley muttered to Garrick as he handed the letter to Todd, who snatched it back, disgruntled. 'And Haeyoun, apparently Dumbledore sends his regards. Wants you tae mind the holly,' Coakley said, chuckling again as he sat back down.

'The wand is done,' Miss Kim said mildly, sipping her tea. 'Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather core. Nice and supple. I'll tell Dumbledore eventually, when I get around to it.'

'Todd, you know I like to keep these meetings private,' Garrick Ollivander said, speaking up. 'I'd prefer if you'd let us speak alone for a bit.'

Todd held his hands up indignantly. 'I live here too, you know.'

'Yes, but there is an expectation that these meetings are for upper-management only. I prefer if we could keep this debate between the three of us.'

Todd felt frustration rising inside him at the unfairness of this — they were discussing the very issue that he'd raised with his father countless times before! — but he knew it was no use. Without another word, he snatched the bubble and the now-empty fog powder bottle off the counter and headed to his bedroom, snapping up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the way and resisting the urge to slam the door behind him.

He tossed the bottle in the bin and placed the bubble carefully on his desk before flopping onto his bed, flipping despondently to the sports section. He read the article on Puddlemere United's loss, glancing at the photo on the section front to see Puddlemere's Seeker get absolutely walloped by a Bludger just as he was reaching out his hand to catch the Snitch, before the Wigtown Wanderers' Seeker caught it instead, defeating Puddlemere 230 to 70. Todd took his pillow out from behind his head and smothered his face with it to muffle a light guttural noise of frustration.

He tossed the pillow, and the paper, to the ground, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know why he had any sort of expectation that Maggie would confide in him in more detail. The two of them really weren't that close, after all. He'd been a prat to her for so long, she could never overlook that.

And she wasn't wrong — you did have to be careful about what you put in letters these days.

Todd blinked, frowning, as he remembered that part of her letter. _Y_ _ou know everyone has to be particularly careful_ _w_ _hat they put in their letters these days._ Why had she... underlined it? Was such dramatic emphasis really necessary?

Todd reached into his robes and pulled her letter out again, holding it above his head as he laid on his back, squinting at that sentence. He produced his wand, hesitating. Is it possible that she... ? He tapped the parchment experimentally and muttered, _'Revelio.'_ Nothing happened. Todd frowned, disappointed. He twiddled his wand thoughtfully in his hand, one leg balanced atop his knee.

He brought the tip of his wand to the underlined part, this time saying, _'Divulgare,'_ and, to Todd's shock, the letters on the page detached themselves from each other, whirling rapidly around in front of his eyes.

'Burn the witch...' he murmured in awe, his eyes widening as he raised himself up into a sitting position, watching the letters settle into entirely new sentences on the parchment.

 _Hopefully you're Clever enough to figure this out. I had to find a_ _w_ _ay to tell you that I joined Alice and Frank la_ _s_ _t_ _w_ _eek in battling_ _s_ _ome Death eater_ _s_ _w_ _hen they attacked a_ _Hog_ _smeade couple._ _I disarmed a female death eater, and alice snapped her wand, but she got away. Dumbledore sent the wand pieces to Ollivander's to id it, but if it's not bella black I'll eat my hat. Once that's confirmed, is there anything we Can do about it? I don't want to endanger the shop, but i'm terrified I've already done that by participating in this little resistanCe last week._

 _Stay safe,_

 _Maggie_

The handful of leftover letters and punctuation marks that hadn't been used for this secret message sunk slowly to the bottom of the piece of parchment, and Todd stared at the letter, still slightly slack-jawed. Exactly a half-dozen thoughts were currently careening through his mind: 1) Maggie Gibson's magic was utterly brilliant, 2) he couldn't wait to tell her that he was, in fact, clever enough to figure this out, 3) bloody hell, Maggie, well done on disarming a Death Eater, 4) bloody HELL, Maggie, you're lucky you didn't get yourself killed, 5) he wished he could do something for the cause like she'd done, 6) 'Is there anything we can do about it?' ... What did she mean by that, precisely?

Still a bit stunned by this turn of events, Todd studied the last two sentences of the letter. He was pretty sure he knew what Maggie was getting at. He very desperately wanted to keep this lovely little secret letter to himself, but he knew he ought to share it with the others.

He leapt up from the bed and tumbled out through his bedroom door, hesitantly approaching the three wandsmiths again. 'I know, I know,' he said quickly, as his father opened his mouth in exasperation. 'But, trust me, you're going to want to see this.'

Todd handed the letter to Coakely, who examined it with confusion. 'How's that?'

 _'It's the same letter,'_ Todd said excitedly to Coakely. 'Maggie _did_ write to me about the Hogsmeade attack after all!'

'I don't follow... What's this odd capitalisation here?'

'That's because the characters in her original letter rearranged themselves to form _a second message!_ Isn't it brilliant?'

'Well well well...' Coakley said, his own delight beginning to match Todd's own. 'Creative work, as per usual. Although... hm... no' exactly loads of information in this letter... None of the narrative here is new, unfortunately... And her questions at the end here, that's exactly what we're trying tae decide the noo... We're all still on the same page...'

'But think of how much Maggie's at risk of retaliation,' Todd said, gesturing toward the letter with nervousness and agitation. 'If anything, we have even more responsibility not to sell a new wand to Bellatrix Black now, knowing what could potentially happen to one of our apprentices if we do.'

'Todd, I don't mean to alarm you when I say this, and I don't say it lightly,' Miss Kim said carefully, 'but retaliation can come from more than one person. Maggie is not out of the woods by any means if we simply refuse to serve Bellatrix Black. And, more importantly,' she said soothingly as Todd looked more and more distraught, 'Maggie is safe at Hogwarts. And, honestly, I don't think she's in nearly as much danger as Alice Longbottom is. It was Alice who snapped the wand, not Maggie.'

'Well, we have to do _something,'_ he burst out. 'She's asking for our assistance, for our protection —'

'She is asking for our _ideas,'_ Miss Kim said pointedly, as she took the letter gently from Coakley's hands, examining it herself. 'And you're more than welcome to help us come up with some, Todd. Your feedback is always welcome here.'

Todd crossed his arms as he surveyed the three wandsmiths, breathing sharply through his nose. He did have ideas. But he'd never disagreed with a statement more in his life, that his feedback was welcome here. And so he didn't divulge his plans for the small bubble of swirling fog in his bedroom.

* * *

Todd was frantic. His father had neglected to tell him that he needed at least an E at N.E.W.T. level in Ancient Runes to work at Ollivander's, which was why he found himself in Hogwarts robes, sitting in the Great Hall and desperately trying to teach himself five years worth of Ancient Runes in an afternoon before he sat his exam.

At least he got to see Maggie again.

'You didn't know you needed to take Ancient Runes?' she asked, looking concerned as she sat beside him while he borrowed her Ancient Runes textbooks. Her voice sounded weird and distorted, as if underwater.

'No!' Todd said, panicked. 'Why would I? Why would anyone need to take this fuck-useless class?'

'Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr Ollivander,' Professor McGonagall said sternly as she passed by. 'I don't know where you inherited that mouth of yours, you certainly didn't get it from your father.'

'She ought to know _exactly_ where I got it from, she went to Hogwarts with Coakley after all,' Todd said in a lowered voice to Maggie, who laughed. Todd kept getting distracted by Maggie's smile while he studied.

'I'm going to test you,' Maggie said, quickly scratching out some runes on a piece of parchment. She moved the paper to him and tapped it with her wand.

'Wait... wait... slow down...' The runes swam, quite literally, in front of his eyes, moving and changing on the page so quickly that he didn't even have time to read them, let alone translate them.

'Todd,' said his dad, who was suddenly standing in the Great Hall, 'you'll be tested on your ability to pair wands with wizards in ten minutes time.'

'But you haven't taught me how!' Todd sputtered, horrified.

'You'll need at least an E at N.E.W.T. level in Wandlore, or else you'll have to work at the Ministry of Magic for the rest of your life,' Mr Ollivander continued, ignoring Todd's panic-stricken expression.

'It's not that difficult,' Maggie said kindly. 'I got an "Outstanding" in Wandlore, and I think you should be able to scrape an E if you work really, really hard.'

'Your task at hand is to find a wand for this witch,' Mr Ollivander said, gesturing to a Seventh Year witch wearing green-trimmed Hogwarts robes with heavily lidded eyes and an endless mass of black curls.

'What? No! We can't sell a wand to Bellatrix Black!' Todd said frantically to his father, trying to keep his voice down as she stood before them.

'Do it, or you fail.'

'I — I can't! No!'

Mr Ollivander shook his head and sighed. 'Disappointing, as always.' He handed Bellatrix Black a wand, and her face split into a fanatical grin as she gripped it. Maggie pushed away from the Ravenclaw table and took off running, but Bellatrix raced after her, cackling.

'Todd, help!' Maggie screamed while Todd plunged his hands into his robes, but his wand wasn't there. _Where was his wand?_ 'Todd, why aren't you helping me?' she cried as she ran toward the doors, and in wild desperation he simply took off running after them.

Bellatrix pointed her wand and spat _'Avada Kedavra!'_ Maggie twisted on the spot, but she wasn't able to Disapparate because of the castle wards, and the jet of green light hit her square in the chest. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, her face frozen in shock, and Todd's strangled yell of fury and grief caught in his chest, waking him up.

He sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat and shaking slightly. His breaths were rapid and shallow. It would've been pitch dark in his bedroom, if not for his Good Morning Orb, which was hovering a few feet above his bed and glowing brighter and brighter with a sun-like light, casting weird shadows on the walls as it did a lazy figure-eight in the air. He had set it to wake him up really early this morning, and the common wizarding object was going to start prodding him soon if he didn't get all the way out of bed. Todd swung his legs onto the floor and fumbled on his bedside table for his glasses.

 _Right,_ he thought to himself as he tried to take deep, calming breaths. _Time for Phase 3._

* * *

Nothing in Diagon Alley was open this early in the morning, which was ideal. Todd didn't want too many people to see him creeping around before he did what he wanted to do today.

Muggle London, on the other hand, was bustling at any hour of the day. Though even Charing Cross Road was a bit sleepy at this time.

Todd, who had begrudgingly donned jeans and a jumper to be as inconspicuous as possible, pulled open the door to a convenience store, squinting uncomfortably in the florescent light as he made his way over to the counter. He shifted his rucksack on his shoulder as he bought a pack of cigarettes.

He headed to the convenience store's toilet and locked the door, setting the rucksack on the floor and taking out his wand and a pair of boots and unassuming black robes, which he changed into. He also took out the dosage bubble, still full of swirling fog, and carefully pocketed it.

He turned to the mirror, staring at his determined expression in the reflection. He had a vague idea of what he was going to try to go for. A distant cousin of Severus Snape's, of sorts.

He pointed his wand at his hair and turned it jet black, moving his wand in a complicated swirl to lengthen his hair and bring it into his face and his eyes. After several minutes of concentration, he gave himself a beard, and he held the tip of his wand just in front of his pupils, turning his eyes brown.

He couldn't forego his glasses, so, while still wearing them, he made them larger and black-rimmed. When he was done, he took a step back and surveyed his work. It was good enough. People in Knockturn Alley weren't exactly the most dapper, put-together people anyway. Wand in hand, he vanished the rucksack, his Muggle clothes and the cigarettes he'd bought and quietly unlocked the door to the toilet. Hopefully the clerk would just think Todd had left without him noticing, he thought as he turned on the spot.

He reappeared in Diagon Alley, near Flourish and Blotts, his eyes readjusting to the lantern light. He gave an involuntary shiver in the cold morning air, awkwardly adjusting the unfamiliar glasses on his face, and set off toward the shadowy steps.

* * *

Knockturn Alley wasn't bustling, by any means — it never was, really — but Todd was still surprised how many people were here at a quarter-to-six in the morning, smoking, haggling at carts in muttered voices, gleefully sharing grim gossip.

That was fine. It didn't matter.

Todd skulked across the way from the Fenny Snake toward a small wrought-iron table in a shadowy corner where someone had discarded a newspaper that Todd didn't recognise, and he settled into the seat. He cast a dim _Lumos_ and perused it distractedly, one hand in his pocket, nervously handling the bubble. After a while, he finally dropped the bubble on the ground at his feet.

As he flipped through this awfully horrible paper, Todd once again wondered what the allure was, exactly, in being a Dark wizard. No sport section, no crossword puzzle, no timetable for the wireless. Just piece after piece about how Muggles, Mudbloods and blood-traitors were polluting the parts of the world that wizards made their way in, and rejoicing in their captures, their tortures, their deaths, alongside nausea-inducing photos. Didn't it get tiring, hating people all the time? Shouldn't even Dark wizards fancy the occasional restaurant review?

Todd masked a laugh as a cough as he pictured You-Know-Who lounging on a sofa with the Sunday crossword, languidly turning to a masked Death Eater to ask, '"It's deadly fun, but will sulk in the sun". Eleven letters. Any ideas?'

A couple of women, who had been whispering to each other and looked suspiciously like hags, moved from where they'd been standing in the middle of the alley and, without looking up from his paper, Todd twitched his foot and kicked the small bubble into the middle of the cobbled road. He only needed to _just slightly_ shift the angle of his wand from the newspaper to have it pointing at the bubble. He casually took aim, and thought, _'Reducto.'_

It was quite the dramatic beginning to Phase 4.

The bubble exploded with an astronomical _BANG!,_ and things suddenly descended into chaos. There were screams and shouts of confusion throughout Knockturn Alley as thick, swirling fog began to spew everywhere, flooding every grotty, darkened nook and cranny of Knockturn Alley with a deafening whoosh.

'FUCK!' Todd shouted, running toward the Fenny Snake and bumping into several frantic people through the vision-clouding fog. 'DO YOU THINK IT'S POISONOUS?'

'They're poisoning us!' a pale witch screamed, turning on the spot.

Todd could tell from the noises that people were fleeing the area, but even if there were still stragglers, it didn't matter. No one could see what he was doing.

He tried the door to the Fenny Snake as chaotic, panicked noises continued to ring through Knockturn Alley. The door was locked, so he tapped the handle with his wand. _'Alohomora.'_ Unsurprisingly, that didn't work, so he went through the motions of what he'd assumed from the beginning he'd have to do.

He cast a quick, thick _Muffliato_ around him, planted his feet firmly, and shouted _'PULSARE!'_ The door was blasted off its hinges, and Todd whipped his head around inside the pub to make sure it was deserted. Thankfully, it was.

He ran inside, levitating the door back in place — _'Reparo'_ — and dashed to the bar. He hoisted a leg up and pushed himself up so he was standing on the bar itself, feeling in the air for the invisible typewriter. He waved his hands tentatively through the air at the ceiling, searching for Maggie's curious little machine. He searched the area where he'd remembered standing a few days ago, when he first levitated the typewriter in place, for several agonising minutes to no avail. He stepped along the bar, able to just barely skim the ceiling with the tips of fingers, agitated and confused by this turn of events.

 _'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,'_ he muttered rhythmically, swearing like it was a mantra. Where was it? He stretched a leg across the area where the bartender would stand and stepped onto the shelf with all the liquor bottles, accidentally knocking a couple to the floor, balancing himself so he could search this part of the ceiling with his hands. He wasn't finding anything, but he wasn't able to reach every part of the ceiling either.

He took out his wand, raised it and angrily hissed _'Accio typewriter!'_

It was here alright, and the large, invisible metal object made hard, swift contact with the back of Todd's head, and he swayed for a minute before he dropped promptly to the bar floor, unconscious.

* * *

'Do you think he's just some alkie who wanted some free booze and broke in?'

'I don't think so. The wards are strong, you'd have to be powerful to break in.'

'Well I don't recognise him. And if he's such a powerful wizard, why's he spark out cold on the floor, then?'

'Fuck if I know. This fucker's trouble. You think it's a coincidence that we find someone's broke into our pub right after someone pulled that chemical bomb shit?'

This was bad. Even in Todd's disoriented state, he knew this was very, very bad. He groaned, not opening his eyes, and concentrated on not vomiting.

'Oy.' One of the men talking above him kicked Todd in the head, and he yelped in pain, desperately trying to think straight. 'How'd you get in here?'

'Wanted to get away from all the shit in the air,' Todd muttered, his eyes still closed as he tried furiously to get his thoughts straight. 'Came in here for safety.'

'That doesn't answer the question,' the more menacing-sounding wizard said, leaning down dangerously and stabbing Todd's throat softly with his wand. That made him open his eyes real fast. 'How'd. You. Get. In. Here.'

Oh sweet fuck. The wizard appeared to know some basic Legilimency, and Todd felt the bloke rummaging through his mind clumsily, opening and closing drawers of his thoughts. Todd eyes twitched like mad as he closed off his mind. The wizard was able to wrench out the answer to his question, but wasn't able to discern any sort of motivation.

'He blew the door off its hinges,' the wizard muttered to his friend, not taking his eyes off Todd's transfigured face. 'Well you're awfully talented, aren't you? What did you do in here, once you got in?'

'What any sensible person would do,' Todd said, weakly pointing to the liquor bottle that had shattered on the floor when he'd accidentally bumped it with his foot. 'Drank.'

'I notice you've got some twitchy little feet there, mate. Almost as if you're trying to get the leverage to turn on the spot. But you won't want to Disapparate without what Comran's got on him.' He jerked his thumb at the man called Comran, who twiddled Todd's wand in his hand with a smirk.

Todd swallowed.

'Well. So you broke into my pub, and drank my liquor. You know, I could have some wizards from the Ministry come by and sort this. But,' and the wizard straightened up, his wand still trained on Todd, 'personally, I prefer to deal with these sorts of altercations a different way. _Crucio_.'

Todd's scream rang through the empty pub as his body convulsed in a seizure of white hot pain. It felt like a dozen people were taking fistfuls of needles and shoving them erratically through every part of his body unceasingly — his eye balls, his stomach, his tongue, under his toenails, between his teeth. Todd could feel the curse course through his body in beats of seven, _onetwothreefourfivesixseven,_ the pain peaking at seven before it started again each time, _onetwothreefourfivesixseven_ _onetwothreefourfivesixseven_ _onetwothreefourfivesixseven_ _._ The wizard let the curse reach the seventh beat four times, and Todd wished he was dead four times, before the wizard stopped and Todd lay trembling on the ground, barely able to gasp for air, let alone move. He'd thrown his hands out involuntarily, and he felt his right hand graze the keys of the typewriter. He turned his head weakly to his right. It was still invisible.

The wizard leaned down closely in front of Todd again, turning Todd's face back roughly towards his own as he tried to make eye contact with Todd. 'Did you set off the bomb earlier today?' _Yes_ _._ 'Did you, now? Why?' _To get in here._ 'I see. Why?' Todd turned to his side and retched, puking violently onto the floor. He extended his hand out to the typewriter, grazing the cool metal with his fingers.

'Did you try to poison the drinks? Were you trying to get to one of the barmen who work here?' The wizard sighed as Todd said nothing. 'Well, let's at least paralyse him for now, Comran, and we'll bring in someone who's a proper Legilimens —'

Todd picked up the invisible typewriter and walloped him with it, sending the wizard staggering to the ground, and threw himself into Comran's legs, and Comran's poorly aimed hex missed Todd. Todd reached up and grabbed his wand back, and turned on the spot, Apparating in front of Ollivander's to see his father opening the shop for the morning.

'Dad,' he said thickly, sinking to his knees onto the cobbled road. He was aware suddenly that he couldn't talk very well and was tasting blood, and he realised he must have bit down on his tongue pretty badly while being tortured. A stream of blood trickled out of his mouth as his father stared back at him, wand raised. His silvery eyes were wide in terror.

'It's me. Bring me through the Thief's Downfall, and you'll see, it's me.'

'I know it's you,' his father said in a trembling voice, rushing over to Todd. He bent down and held him, keeping him from collapsing to the ground entirely. 'I can recognise my own son.'


	24. Skiving Off

_6th Nov 1980_

 _Maggie,_

 _Hope this typewriter finds you well. I'll miss it. It's been useful for writing things (like this letter) because I've had a little trouble holding a quill lately for reasons I can't get into. You might notice that your machine's a bit dinged up... sorry about that. It still works perfectly._

 _Glad to hear things are going well up north. I hope N.E.W.T. stress isn't getting to you yet. I have to tell you, those bloody dreams where you have to take an exam that you're not prepared for NEVER go away, even once you're out of school._

 _And yes, OF COURSE Coakley misses you, you numptie. I asked him weeks ago if the apprentices could have another duel in the workshop, and he just sighed and muttered about how he 'canny be arsed tae move the tables.' The poor man doesn't even enjoy gambling anymore without you, Maggie._ _Stop doubting yourself._

 _Stay safe (and sane),_

 _Todd_

Maggie smiled sadly as she perused Todd's letter over breakfast in the Great Hall, happy to have her typewriter returned to her. It was a sweet note, but overall Maggie was disappointed he hadn't realised she'd sent him a secret message. Maybe she'd been too subtle.

She took a bite of kipper, and her eyes lingered on a shaky doodle of a dragon in the bottom-left corner of the letter. That was unusual, she'd never seen Todd do anything like that in his letters to her before.

She furrowed her brow, producing her wand as she chewed.

 _'Revelio,'_ she said, tapping the doodle, and the dragon suddenly came to life, flapping its wings on the page. Maggie grinned and straightened up in her seat. Across the table, Robbie raised an eyebrow in confusion. Maggie'd sat at the Gryffindor table more than a couple of times in the past, but it was clear that Robbie's peers weren't particularly keen on someone not in their House sitting there every day. So, on most mornings now, Robbie joined her at the Ravenclaw table, where people were happy to disregard dumb rules.

She tried to show Robbie the letter without drawing too much attention to it, in case the parchment was about to reveal some sort of secret message.

So much for that. She shrieked as the dragon suddenly pulled back and unleashed a burst of actual, real fire on the page, and Maggie dropped it in shock as several Ravenclaw students looked over in alarm. Why would Todd burn his own bloody letter? But instead of turning to ash, the parchment remained intact after the fire disappeared, with an entirely new message now written on it.

 _ha HA — hopefully YOU'RE clever enough to figure this out! Well, you just about gave me a heart attack when you said you joined Alice and Frank in an assault against some Death Eaters. Were you injured at all? Presumably you're OK, you were able to write to me after all, but I felt like you still should've said if you were injured at all or not. I kept picturing you writing to me from a bed in the hospital wing._

 _But well done. I'm incredibly proud of you. We all are._

 _I might be projecting a bit about the injuries thing... I had my own grim little adventure two days ago. Technically, my plan with your typewriter was successful. There was a little snag, though, involving me, a couple of wizards and the Cruciatus Curse. Did you know that after you're hit with the Crucitatus Curse, it hurts like hell for days? Apparently when your muscles contract in agony, there tend to be after-effects. Who knew._

 _But, ultimately, I'm alive and completely fine. That is, if my dad doesn't kill me for doing what I did. I'm only partly joking._

 _I wish I had some good news to share. We're still not sure what to do about the Bella problem. She hasn't come in yet, but we do think it's only a matter of time. Thank god she's out of school, I had a dream she was still a student at Hogwarts. Though that dream doesn't compare to the bonkers dreams I've been having since I've had to start drinking these pain-numbing potions._

 _The typewriter also turned up some interesting information. I don't think it's safe to share, even in a secret letter. I'll have to wait till I see you over the Christmas holidays. Nothing says 'Christmas cheer' like a paper crown, a glass of mead and a lively discussion about murderers and the horrors of war!_

 _Take care,_

 _Todd_

Maggie's eyes raced over his message multiple times in slight horror. What the... was Todd saying someone had used the Cruciatus Curse on him? And for him to still be in pain... it couldn't have been halfheartedly cast... Was he still in danger? What would keep whoever did that to him from coming after him again? Had Todd already taken the Unbreakable Vow? She hadn't even thought to ask him in her last letter! What if the worst happened before she saw him again?

'Maggie? What's going on?'

She had knocked over a glass of pumpkin juice in her haste to stand up from the table.

'I have to get to Ollivander's!'

'What?' Robbie said, flabbergasted by her frenzy. 'Why? What's wrong, what's happened?'

'I don't have time to explain, I've just got to find someone!'

She heard Robbie's bewildered calls after her as she bolted through the Great Hall's oaken doors.

* * *

'Professor Flitwick,' Maggie gasped, startling the Charms professor so much that he toppled off his chair as she barged into his office, struggling to catch her breath.

'Maggie, good heavens, what is it?' Flitwick said, trying to recover his dignity as he stood up and brushed himself off.

'I've got to go… urgent Ollivander's business,' she heaved, clutching her chest. 'I've got to get to Hogsmeade… to Apparate.'

'What?' Flitwick said sharply, looking up at her. 'What's happened?'

'Todd Ollivander... was... attacked...'

'No!' Flitwick's eyes widened in horror. 'It can't be! Todd Ollivander was killed?!'

'No, no, thank god,' Maggie said, nervously threading her fingers through her curls at her temples, 'but I've got to go there all the same.'

'Merlin's beard, Maggie, the state you're in, I thought the worst had happened... Was anyone else attacked?'

'No, no, just Todd.'

'What happened to him?'

'I'm not entirely sure, he didn't say much in his letter to me —'

'Oh! He was able to write to you? Well that doesn't sound so bad, it sounds like he'll be all right...'

'I mean... yes... but... my friend was attacked,' Maggie said. 'Are you really not going to let me go? What if it happens again! And what if next time, he... isn't so lucky...'

'Maggie,' Flitwick said consolingly, 'I don't mean to make light of anything, I'm sure that news must have come as quite a shock. But it does sound as if everything's going to be all right. Maybe we can make arrangements for you to speak to the Ollivanders via Floo in a few days time —'

'Professor, I — I'd really like to make sure he's OK, and see him and speak to him. And... I mean... he told me in a letter that he had important information he wanted to share with me...' Maggie said, faltering a bit. 'I — I know I must sound a bit mad...' Maggie tried to convey how she would feel if this person who she used to hate, and now didn't hate any more, were to die. She was at a loss for words to explain to Flitwick how she was feeling.

'If this were a situation involving someone in your family, I might let you go... but I'm sure everyone at Ollivander's can handle this while you stay at Hogwarts, where you're supposed to be,' Flitwick said kindly.

Maggie eventually left Flitwick's office, feeling distressed. She returned to the now-empty Great Hall and retrieved her books for Herbology, placing them in her rucksack.

It was cold and windy as she made her way to the greenhouses, with light water droplets flying through the air more so than falling. She pulled the hood of her robes up, shielding her hair and face miserably from the weather.

It felt like she and Todd were both doomed and damned people, her having been made Secret Keeper, him taking an Unbreakable Vow. Not for the first time, Maggie wondered what her life would've been like if she'd just stayed out of the magical world. Things wouldn't have been easy, per se, in the Muggle world, but at least they were in peace time. She probably would've done well in secondary school, she'd always enjoyed primary school, despite everything going on at her home. But even when she fantasised about what a Muggle Maggie would be like, a girl who'd be applying to uni around this time, it just didn't feel right, somehow. Even before she knew magic existed, she felt a pull toward this energy inside her, and being taught how to access it made her feel so incredibly, wonderfully alive.

If she'd never gotten her Hogwarts letter, she'd be in less danger, it was true. But she never would've stepped foot in Hogwarts, or Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade. She never would've seen a phoenix or watched people fly about on broomsticks. She never would've met Alice, or Robbie. She never would have learnt how to disappear on the spot and reappear somewhere else, or how to bewitch a gramophone to play any single song she fancied. She never would've gotten the opportunity to work at Ollivander's, to apprentice under Coakley. She never would've met Todd.

And, in the midst of the Wizarding War, who knew how long any of these things, or people, would be around?

On a manic whim, Maggie spun on her heel and started to walk away from the greenhouses, in the direction of Hogsmeade.

* * *

Ollivander's was locked when Maggie arrived. _Again,_ she thought with a huff as she stood in the cold rain. While the precipitation up at Hogwarts had only been a light mist, a proper thunderstorm was currently sweeping through London. Would it kill this nation to be more creative with its weather? Maggie frowned, annoyed, at the sign on the door:

OLLIVANDER'S OFF-SEASON OPENING TIMES

MONDAY: 09.00 — 17.00

TUESDAY-THURSDAY: 12.00 — 17.00

FRIDAY-SUNDAY: CLOSED

~OR BY APPOINTMENT~

Well. At least now she knew what she was meant to do this time.

She raised her wand and shot off a blue firework. Her aim was a little off, and it didn't explode directly in front of the windows. But, even in the rain, there were plenty of sparks, and it was likely someone had seen something.

She waited for a while in front of the shop, her eyes roving over the purple cushion behind the grubby window on which a single wand sat, before she saw the familiar rush of water as the door suddenly opened, and Mr Ollivander walked through the Thief's Downfall, drying himself off instantly with a wave of his wand and conjuring an invisible awning to protect the unannounced guest and himself from the rain as he stood before her, bewildered.

'Miss Gibson!' he said, his silvery eyes quizzically inspecting the distressed witch before him. 'Is everything all right? What brings you here, has something happened?'

'Well, of course something's happened!' she said, slightly confused. 'Todd's been hurt! I'm here to see him.'

'Oh,' he said, still looking a bit puzzled. 'Well... he's sleeping now... The pain-numbing potions make him quite drowsy.'

'Oh.'

The two of them stood outside the shop for a quiet, awkward moment before Mr Ollivander, realising he needed to do something, quickly held the door open for her. 'Would you like to come in?'

* * *

The two of them made their way up the spiral staircase, which Maggie still felt some residual resentment for since it had knocked her out after her duel with Todd.

'Er, I'm sorry to have interrupted your work, sir,' she said as she followed him up the stairs.

'Not at all. I just finished up a delightfully terrific wand, if I do say so myself,' he said, animated. 'Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair that Sana procured the day we hired you. Its magic is delightful, downright fun at times. The wand _can_ be a bit petulant... has a tendency to sulk a bit, but,' he said, wagging his finger in the air eagerly as he led Maggie up the stairs, 'it's imperative, Miss Gibson, that wands have flaws, just as their owners do. And, besides, when you focus your thoughts and impress upon this new wand of mine that you need it to rise to the occasion, it does so. Quite spectacularly, I think.'

Maggie smiled at how lively the usually quiet wandmaker got while discussing wandlore. 'That sounds a bit like Todd,' she said.

Mr Ollivander frowned as they reached the top of the staircase. 'Yes, I suppose it does,' he muttered. 'Though I'll need to be certain to specify _which_ tasks I'd like him to rise to, in the future. Er — can I offer you some tea, until Todd wakes up?'

Maggie accepted, and she watched with mild interest from a chair as Mr Ollivander prepared tea in the same, almost old-fashioned way that Todd did, filling a copper kettle with water from his wand, tapping it to heat it instantly, then pouring a small amount of the boiling water into a teapot. He sloshed the water around in the teapot first, to warm it, poured that out, then spooned tea leaves into the teapot and poured boiling water over that. Mr Ollivander checked his pocket watch in the same way Todd did as he began to time the steeping.

He looked around the room awkwardly as Maggie sat at the small, wooden kitchen table. She shifted nervously in her chair, thinking about her class schedule for the day and wondering how many classes in a row she could miss today before it became a cause for alarm.

'Erm... is a wand's temperament usually very similar to its owner's temperament?' she asked, distracting herself from her anxiety by raising the question that had occurred to her earlier, as Mr Ollivander had described the disposition of the new wand he'd created.

'Almost always,' he said thoughtfully. 'I imagine that this wand would go to a wizard, rather than a witch, most likely... You're right about the similarities to Todd... I can see it pairing with a wizard who thinks his life is hard, fancies himself a bit long-suffering, but who actually has much to be thankful for...' He trailed off, frowning a bit, lost in disgruntled thought.

'Well,' Maggie conceded with a shrug, 'Todd may not have the hardest life, but he doesn't exactly have it easy, either, does he? He has a lot to live up to. I'm sure it can be quite daunting, at times.'

Mr Ollivander surveyed her thoughtfully for a bit, checked his pocketwatch again, and poured the tea. He took a glass bottle of milk, kept magically cold, out of a cupboard and fixed cups for Maggie and himself.

'So, how is Todd?' she asked as he handed her a cup. 'He was well enough to write a letter, but he told me he was in a lot of pain.'

An anguished look flickered over Mr Ollivander's face for a moment. 'Yes,' he said quietly, 'victims of the Cruciatus Curse often suffer after-effects similar to a seizure, and his muscles are quite sore. Todd's had trouble moving about since he... escaped.' Mr Ollivander swallowed before he continued in a voice of forced casualness. 'He's been keeping to his bed, mostly, and taking pain-numbing potions, but he'll make a full recovery soon.'

'Is there... any danger they'll come back for him?' she asked.

Mr Ollivander sipped his tea slowly before he responded. 'Todd doesn't seem to think so. He used significant human transfiguration on himself before he went to fetch a... what did he call it... a sort of word-writer, a Muggle gadget I'd never heard of before.' Maggie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but Mr Ollivander didn't convey any sort of sternness that implied that he knew it was her object that Todd had borrowed. 'Apparently it was able to transcribe overheard conversation — Merlin knows how Muggles came up with something ingenious like that, that is quite impressive — and Todd planted it at the Fenny Snake. He returned several days later, when the pub was closed, and Todd _insists_ that his plan would've been executed perfectly,' Mr Ollivander said, rolling his eyes, 'if he hadn't summoned the object to himself. Apparently it hit him in the head, knocked him out, and he woke up to two wizards who he thinks worked at the pub standing above him.'

Mr Ollivander walked Maggie through the rest of the encounter, and she listened with a mixture of horror and relief.

'So he's certain they didn't recognise him?'

'Yes, that's what he says,' Mr Ollivander said with a sigh. 'Though, I still have my concerns... But, honestly, we have bigger problems to worry about, if you can believe it. I can't deny that the information Todd recovered is useful, and he and I are planning to undertake the Order of the Phoenix's proposal, and take an Unbreakable Vow. He found that Dark wizard after Dark wizard found that rumour extremely distressing because it would significantly reduce the effectiveness of intimidation tactics that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, apparently, had planned for the future.' Mr Ollivander tried, and failed, to suppress a shudder.

Maggie didn't know what to say. She wanted to share some words of encouragement and tell Mr Ollivander that, if Professor Dumbledore believed it would keep them safe, then it certainly would. But, ever since she'd taken the Unbreakable Vow, she had a nagging suspicion that the headmaster's plans were not as invincible as she'd once thought, when she was younger.

Mr Ollivander drummed his fingers on the table in a nervous, Todd-like way for a bit, before he looked up. 'Jack would love to see you, I think,' he said, jumping up suddenly, and Maggie had the sense that he was trying to distract himself from his own anxieties. 'I'll go and fetch him, so you can say hello.'

He walked swiftly toward the spiral staircase and descended it, before Maggie could even answer. Though she was eager to see Coakley, she wanted to make sure she got to see Todd on this surreptitious visit of hers. Otherwise, it was all for naught. She stood up, peering down the spiral staircase to listen for the sounds of anyone walking up. She didn't hear anything, so she turned to Todd's closed bedroom door.

She turned the doorknob slowly and peeked inside.

She jumped as a crack of thunder sounded, and a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the darkened bedroom. Todd, who was sleeping soundly, didn't stir.

He was in bed, the same bed she'd been in after hitting her head last summer. He didn't wake when she entered, either, continuing to breathe slowly and deeply, his glasses placed on a bedside table beside his wand. His hair was mussed as if he'd been in bed for a few days. To Maggie's surprise, he was wearing Muggle clothes — a thick, forest green fisherman's jumper that looked delightfully warm as the cold, wet weather pelted against his window.

He looked uninjured, no bruises or scars, Maggie thought, examining him as he dozed. But she knew curses didn't always leave obvious traces. She smiled at this image of Todd looking so incredibly normal. No top hat, no wizard's robes. Just a vaguely handsome 19-year-old who hadn't shaved in a few days, looking adorably disheveled.

Maggie made a mental note to tell him that he ought to try asking girls out while donning Muggle clothes sometime, that he might be surprised by the outcome.

Todd grimaced lightly and groaned, shifting in his sleep. Maggie tilted her head, waiting to see if he woke up. On the one hand, she hated to disturb him while he was injured, but on the other hand, it would be nice to say hello, however briefly.

To Maggie's pleasant surprise, Todd's eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, as his eyes struggled to focus.

'Hiya,' she said, smiling softly.

Todd blanched and his eyes widened in fear. To Maggie's confusion, he slammed his hand down on his bedside table to grab his wand, which he pointed at her swiftly and said, _'Petrificus Totalus!'_

Of all the reactions Maggie had expected Todd to have to her unexpected visit, this was probably the last one she'd envisioned, and she stumbled back for one second before, as she squawked out a garbled 'GERK!', she fell backward onto the floor.

'DAD!' he shouted, wincing as he struggled to get out of bed. 'DAD, THERE'S SOMEONE HERE, COME QUICK!'

There was a commotion outside, the sound of hurried footsteps on the staircase, and Coakley and Mr Ollivander burst through Todd's door, frantically looking to see what was going on. Their expressions turned to confusion to see Maggie lying on the ground.

'What have ye done tae Maggie, ye doolally bastard!' Coakley shouted angrily, rushing to her side to nullify the jinx.

'That can't be Maggie!' Todd shouted back, shoving off the covers on his bed as he stood up gingerly to keep his wand trained on her. He'd clearly decided that the lower half of him needed to be less heavily clothed under his heavy duvet than his top half, for he was only wearing boxers and a pair of socks. 'Maggie's at Hogwarts, this has got to be the work of Polyjuice Potion! What are you — _don't un-paralyse her,_ are you mad?! She could be a Death Eater!'

'Ah, so now you say there _is_ a chance of Death Eaters coming after you, is there?' Mr Ollivander said, raising his voice angrily at Todd as well, as Coakley helped an offended Maggie to her feet. 'Because every time we've spoken since you've come back from the Fenny Snake, you've insisted that you haven't placed yourself in any danger whatsoever, and yet here you are, overreacting —'

 _'I'm not overreacting!'_ Todd sputtered, still pointing his wand apprehensively at Maggie. It was clear that he really didn't think it was her, because he continued to stand, half-clothed, next to his bed without moving to grab a pair of pyjama bottoms off the floor. 'All right, if you're Maggie, then answer me this: After we duelled last summer, I conjured a plant for you, with your wand, in this very bedroom. What was it? You have three seconds to answer.'

'Are you mental? An olive branch!' she said, raising her hands quickly, as he had twitched his wand warningly when she didn't immediately answer. Todd blinked, and his fearful expression drained a bit, to be replaced by a look of utter confusion. 'Maggie?'

'Nice to see you too, Todd,' she grumbled, brushing herself off.

'How else would she have gotten through the Thief's Doonfall?' Coakley said, looking at Todd as if he were a complete idiot.

'Oh.' A flush started to creep into Todd's cheeks as he lowered his wand. 'I... forgot about that,' he mumbled, inching awkwardly toward his wardrobe.

'Any chance the Ollivanders are related tae the Moodys?' Coakley asked Mr Ollivander dryly as they watched Todd, who winced as he shrugged on a dressing gown and tied it gingerly around himself.

'But, how — why are you here?' he asked, confused. 'You _are_ supposed to be at Hogwarts, I don't understand.'

'She came to visit you, Todd,' Mr Ollivander said sternly. 'She came as soon as she'd heard you were attacked.'

'Oh,' he said again, his flush deepening as he looked at her timidly. 'Well... that's... really nice of you...'

'Are you all right, darlin'?' Coakley said, attending to Maggie kindly. 'Hurt at all? It is lovely tae see you, hen, this is a smashing surprise.'

'Yeah, I think I'm OK,' she said, rubbing the back of her head.

'Yes, are you all right, Maggie?' Todd said hastily. 'I'm — I'm _so_ sorry. It's — it's so great to see you, I — we have plenty of pain potions, if you're hurt at all —'

'Todd Ollivander, a gentleman amoong scoundrels,' Coakley said with an eye roll.

* * *

'In my defence,' Todd said sheepishly, nursing a cup of tea, as the four of them sat in chairs around the fire in the Ollivanders' flat, 'if any sort of Dark wizard would want to get close to me, the best way would be by impersonating you. I thought there was just no way it was you.'

'It's fine Todd,' Maggie said dryly. The storm was still howling outside, as they all sat by the cosy warmth of the crackling fire.

'It's a bit of PTSD, I think,' she said, her voice soften as she watched raindrops pelt the window horizontally. 'I have it too. After my own encounter with Dark wizards.'

'Sorry?' he said, puzzled. 'A bit of... what?'

'It's a Muggle term, it's how your body reacts to a terrifying situation long after it's over. You're sort of... hyper-vigilant, afterward. Small things can set you off, yeah? Make your heart start racing, make you start sweating, like you're reliving it all over again. You mentioned in your letter you've been having bonkers dreams... nightmares, I assume?'

Todd opened his mouth and closed it, studying his tea and not answering.

'Well, I've been having a lot of nightmares too,' she said quietly. Coakley was watching her sadly.

'You were right, of course,' Todd said, looking up. 'About the Death Eater being Bellatrix Black. We've identified her wand, it was definitely her.'

'Walnut-tree wood and dragon heartstring,' Mr Ollivander muttered. 'Twelve and three-quarter inches. Particularly... _erratic.'_

'I can't imagine that's particularly helpful intelligence for the Order,' Maggie said glumly. 'The psychotic, Pureblood witch with a penchant for torturing people at Hogwarts ended up a Death Eater. Who'd have seen that coming?'

'But, as you know, it does give Ollivander's an opportunity to act. We _do_ have the option of —' Todd was silenced by a sharp look from his father. Todd frowned, taking a sip of his tea. His eyes flicked to hers. ' _Later,'_ he mouthed surreptitiously.

'Erm, Mr Ollivander told me the two of you will be taking the Unbreakable Vow,' she said, looking nervously to the elder wandmaker. 'What did you find out that convinced you? You said it was something the typewriter picked up?'

'Yeah — conversation after conversation confirmed it was the way to go,' Todd said, nodding vigorously, maybe due to a combination of eagerness and nerves. He stood up with a groan. 'I'll go fetch it, the stuff we found out was _fascinating_ —'

Mr Ollivander made a noise of protest, but Todd was already heading through the doorway of his bedroom, and he emerged seconds later holding a comically long scroll of parchment. It dragged on the ground as Todd searched for the relevant passages, muttering to himself. The parchment was filled from top to bottom with typewritten words. Someone — Todd, presumably — had filled the text with notations in inks of various colours.

'Right, so here's one of the best,' Todd said, reading. ' _The Ollivander cunts have taken an Unbreakable Vow not to sell to_ — erm — Muggleborns...'

Maggie gave a derisive snort. 'You don't have to censor the word "Mudblood" for me, Todd, I've heard it all.'

'Absolutely not,' Coakley said sharply. 'I'll no' hear that word oot o' your mouth, hen.'

'All the more reason to censor it, you've heard it enough,' Todd muttered as his eyes raced over the parchment, frowning in concentration. 'Right then, so, then some other bloke, who his mate called Parkinson earlier on, says, _You're joking? Have they lost their minds? That's exactly the sort of game the Dark Lord salivates over. Force them to do his bidding and then watch them die._ _It'll be like Christmas for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

'And _then,'_ Todd said, reading excitedly, 'the bloke says, _That's what many of us thought. But, when Kearl shared this information with the Dark Lord, he... he..._

 _He was... displeased?_

 _I've never seen him so livid. He tortured Kearl nearly to the point of insanity. We tried to calm the Dark Lord, we told him that it would be easy work to finish off the Ollivanders, but he wouldn't hear it. Said he doesn't want to kill off the wandlore knowledge, the ancient magic. Nor the ancient family. He promised that, if any of us attempted to force the Ollivanders to break their Vow, he would see to it that us and our families would suffer horrifying deaths._

 _But we could go to G_ _regorovitch for wands! Or Villamizar!_

 _We suggested that. And he flew into... even more of a rage._

 _Steady there, mate, take a breath. It's all right._

 _He never wanted the Ollivanders dead. He simply wanted to force them to do his bidding. But now his hands are tied. We'll just have to continue to force his will through the Ministry, focus our attentions there._

Todd finished reading and looked up, with that same look of eager, nervous energy.

'So Dumbledore was right?' Maggie whispered.

'As always,' Mr Ollivander said grimly. 'Though, now, we must take the Unbreakable Vow straight away. Todd's made them think that it's already been done. If they get wind that it hasn't happened yet, we'll be in grave danger.'

'We're planning to send for the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow, tell them we have news without explaining what,' Todd said to Maggie. 'They can document the two of us taking the Vow. They can photograph it, prove that it happened.'

'And then... you'll finally be safe?' Maggie asked, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice.

The four of them were quiet for a while, considering this. Finally, Todd broke the silence.

'No,' he said softly. 'But no Ollivander ever really will be, fully. Not in these times.'

* * *

'I still can't believe you're here,' Todd said to Maggie. It was just the two of them now, in Todd's bedroom. He felt a jittery sort of giddiness, having her show up unexpectedly to see him, and he kept frantically thinking how he could make things up to her after hexing her. _Hexing her_ _when she'd come to visit him._ Was he retarded? That had been a spectacular new entry in the unending list of _The Self-Sabotages of Todd Ollivander._ 'How in the name of Merlin did you get the professors to let you come to London?'

'Oh.' Maggie shrugged awkwardly, her back to him as she perused the books on his bookshelf while he sat on his bed. 'You know... just said I had... official Ollivander's business.' She pulled a book off the shelf and started to flip through it.

'Official Ollivander's business?' Todd smiled quizzically. 'Well, you're a much more likable person than I am. You're probably better at charming Flitwick than I ever was.'

Maggie shot him a grin over her shoulder. 'If you ever tried to get something you wanted by going through Flitwick, you're not as clever as I thought. I bet if you asked Slughorn for anything, he'd give it to you before you could say, "Todd, m'boy!"'

Todd groaned, rolling his eyes. 'I did whatever I could to keep from becoming that man's golden dragon egg, but it didn't matter. He wanted to collect me so badly. He didn't give Derek the time of day, mind, and Derek was always far better at Potions than I was. I probably could've asked Slughorn for permission to shoot up heroin in his classroom, and he would've let me.'

Todd thought Maggie would've appreciated and laughed at the Muggle reference, but instead it had an odd effect on her. Her grin suddenly evaporated, and she turned back stoically to the bookcase, continuing to peruse it, though with odd, jerky movements now.

'Shit, sorry, is that phrase... more offensive than I thought?' Todd said uncertainly. He'd assumed it was a drug thing, based on how he'd heard it used before, but maybe it was a sex thing? Shoot up heroine? 'Sorry, I pick up these things, but I have no bloody context. Isn't heroin a sort of — ?'

'Didn't you ask me in here because you had an early birthday present for me?' Maggie said, cutting him off with a weak smile.

'Oh. Yeah,' Todd said, faltering. When he'd finally come up with the idea yesterday, he'd thought it was perfect, but now he wasn't sure. Maybe she'd think it was a bit lazy. He hadn't wrapped it or anything. He got off the bed with what he hoped looked like ease (he was gritting his teeth against the pain, he'd delayed drinking another pain-numbing potion because otherwise he'd zonk out immediately) and walked to the bookcase to stand beside Maggie.

'So...' he said casually, taking a book off the shelf, 'I wouldn't mention this to my dad. Or Coakley. Or... well, anyone at Ollivander's, if you can help it. My dad likes to keep thorough records. Rather ironic, in my opinion, considering his photographic memory. He never consults the records room, doesn't need to. So I doubt he'll notice this is missing.'

He opened a large-ish tome about tree lore, flicking through the pages until he found the few pages of loose parchment he'd hidden inside the book.

'The pages are preserved with magic, but, still, keep in mind that they're very old,' he said, handing them carefully to her. 'Are you aware that Gatherers and Beast-Hunters keep careful notes about the materials they procure?'

'No, I didn't know that,' Maggie said, looking over the pieces of parchment curiously.

'Yep,' he said, trying to temper his enthusiasm. There was no reason to expect that Maggie would fawn over this gift of his, he shouldn't get his hopes up. 'And the wandsmiths keep careful notes as well, after they've completed a wand. It helps us pair the wand with a witch or wizard, when the time comes.'

Maggie's brow was furrowed as she perused the notes, confused. 'I'm sorry, I can't read Old English, I haven't the faintest clue what this says.'

'Ah, but I'm sure you know how to do a translation charm, don't you?'

'Is it safe to do that, with such an old document?'

'Positive. Don't be shy. It'll switch back as soon as you undo the charm.'

'Todd,' Maggie said in a warning voice, 'if you get me fired from this place for tampering with an important document, I swear —'

'I promise!' Todd said, laughing. 'Trust me, that document's important to me, too. I wouldn't tell you it was safe if I wasn't one hundred per cent sure. Go on, then. Do you need me to remind you how the charm works?'

She swatted his wand away with an amused eyeroll and produced her own. Hesitating at first, she performed the charm, and the words slowly morphed into something recongisable on the page.

'In this wood, in these regions of the east, inhabits a bird, wonderfully handsome, strong of wings, which is called Phoenix,' she read quizzically. 'After endless fruitless excursions, the feathered creature finally graced us with its presence. There this creature unparalleled keeps his dwelling and, courageous of heart, his way of life; never shall death harm him in that pleasant plateau, as long as the world remains.

'This phoenix is accustomed to observe the sun's course and eagerly to watch for when the noblest of stars comes up over the billowy sea, gleaming from the east. Then the bird, powerful in flight, exultant in his wings, gazes eagerly upon the main beneath the sky, across the water, until the lamp of the firmament comes gliding up from the east above the broad sea.

'In this first light of morning, the noble bird filled the mountain peak with its beautiful, haunting song, and, for the first time since my mother's death, I felt renewed, and the life ahead of me seemed, again, to be something to face with zeal and fervor, and not weariness.

'It blessed us with a single feather, which we plucked from its breast, before he betook himself up into a tall tree from where he might most easily observe us as we began our journey home.'

After Maggie finished reading, she stared intently at the parchment for several long moments, not blinking and not looking up at Todd.

'Over a thousand years, a wand with that very phoenix feather core sat in our shop, waiting for the right witch or wizard to come along,' he said softly, smiling. 'And, finally, in the year 1974, someone came into the shop who was extraordinary enough to wield it.'

And Maggie, without warning, suddenly burst into tears.

'Oh! Er — Maggie?' Todd said, alarmed. He groped for his handkerchief, but he was still wearing his dressing gown, and it wasn't on him. Unsure what to do, he scanned his bedroom frantically, trying to remember where it was, but then he looked back to Maggie, who was hiding her face from him as she continued to be racked by sobs, and he instinctively took her in his arms, patting her on the back.

'That bad, huh?' he joked, laughing nervously as he gently took the pieces of parchment that were still clutched in her hand. 'Well, there's always next year, Maggie. Maybe then I'll get you something better than an old warlock's grubby old notes.'

'Todd, th-this — this is — these are the n-notes for my w-w-wand core?'

'Wouldn't it be really hilarious if I said no right now?'

She pulled back, startled, and Todd couldn't help but laugh. 'Of course it's the notes for your wand core, Maggie! A brilliant wand core for a brilliant person. Easiest, cheapest birthday gift I've ever gotten anyone. Didn't even need to leave the comfort of my own home. Nipped round to the records room, skimmed through the Gs for Gibson, and viola.'

'It's the l-l-loveliest gift I've ever — I can't thank you enough —'

'Margaret Gibson, you're the biggest wandlore nerd I've ever met. Take a second, will you, and let the significance of that statement sink in.'

'I just — I never feel — all the time, people are always telling me that I don't belong in the wizarding world — and to read this, it just, it just, it just means so much, I can't —' She wasn't able to speak anymore as she continued to cry, and as Todd continued to hold her, he had to say he'd never felt so happily disconcerted before.

'This wouldn't be some of that DTSP you mentioned earlier, would it?' he asked.

'PTSD.'

'Right. ECMD.'

'PTSD.

'Got it. GDFC.'

'Todd!'

'Sorry,' he said, giggling, 'I'm just winding you up. You're making me so nervous. Are you OK? Seriously, do you want to talk?'

She pulled away, taking deep, shaky breaths, wiping her face slowly with her hands. 'It's just Seventh Year stress, that's all. I know I need at least five N.E.W.T.s to be properly qualified to work at Ollivander's, and the idea that I might lose my apprenticeship here is just... it's just more than I can handle right now, that's all.'

'This... seems like a lot more than N.E.W.T. stress.'

Maggie sighed, retrieving her birthday gift that Todd had placed on his desk. She smiled fleetingly at the pages before her face became creased with worry. 'It's just Alice and Frank, and their son,' she said softly. 'I'm just so worried about them.'

'Oh god — were the Longbottoms hurt in the attack?' Todd said anxiously. 'I'm so stupid, I didn't even ask.'

'No, no, they weren't injured. I'm just... worried about them,' she said lamely. 'And now you and Mr Ollivander are about to take an Unbreakable Vow, and it just seems like everyone I know is just in so, so much danger.'

'We'll be safe,' Todd said, urging more confidence into his voice than he felt. 'That's _why_ we're taking the Vow. Because it will protect everyone.'

Maggie frowned at the pages in her hands, thinking. 'If the worst happens —'

'It won't,' Todd said, resolute. 'The typewriter confirms that it won't.'

'But if it _does,'_ Maggie said, 'will anyone even be qualified to pair wands with wizards? Have you all really thought this through?'

'Yeah. My dad's going to be giving Coakley and Miss Kim a crash course over the next several months,' Todd said grumpily. 'Apparently, only literal threat of death is enough motivation to wrench that particular lesson out of him.'

Maggie tried, unsuccessfully, to bite back a sudden smile. 'Do you think Coakley's... _patient_ enough? To find the right wand for a wizard?'

Todd snorted. 'Absolutely not. Though, I am looking forward to hearing Coakley tell an eleven-year-old, "Noo, this wand here, this one's a belter. This wand's the hairy bollocks."'

Maggie cackled with laughter before giving her own, Todd had to admit, _fantastic_ Coakley impression. 'Right then, you're clearly a useless wean. Let's go find you a nice stick in the gairden, and that's you sorted.'

They were both crying now, this time with tears of mirth.

* * *

 _A/N: I basically punched up a Ninth Century Old English poem, called The Phoenix, for the notes Maggie reads. Some of the lines of the poem, I hate to admit, were just lifted verbatim because they fit so perfectly. It's about 25 percent me, 75 percent anonymous Old English dude. Thanks, anonymous Old English dude._


	25. The Unbreakable Vow

It was louder than usual in the office of the Daily Prophet this morning, so Miriam didn't initially realise that David Babcock was trying to get her attention.

'Miriam!' Her insufferable editor finally tried to block her way as she walked briskly between the rows of reporters' desks, but of course she glided right through him. Accidentally, of course.

'Oh for fuck's sake, not again,' he grumbled, shivering. 'I hate it when you do that.'

The ghost, donning a pinstriped pencil skirt and blazer, with her hair styled in the way that had been popular in 1943 when she'd died, crossed her arms and smirked. 'Maybe try not to get in my way, then.'

'I've an assignment for you,' he said, whipping out a letter and placing it on a desk. Miriam didn't bother to read it.

'Oh no you haven't,' she said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. 'You said you would let me camp out at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement today. Barty Crouch has been ignoring my owls for weeks, and every time I drop by, he's _conveniently_ out of the office. He can't avoid me forever, he's got to answer to the evidence that the so-called Death Eater one of his Aurors killed was clearly an Imperiused wizard. The Auror _wasn't_ acting in self-defence, had the _time_ and the _ability_ to remove the curse, but Crouch is so eager to increase the good side's body count that —'

'You can camp out tomorrow. I want you on this today,' he said, shoving the letter in front of her face.

'To whom it may concern,' Miriam read in a bored voice. 'I would like to extend an invitation to a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer to witness an historic development at Ollivander's today. My son and I have made a decision that I believe would be of interest to the entire wizarding world, and we shall be performing a task that solidifies that decision at noon. Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Yours sincerely, Garrick Ollivander.'

Miriam shot her editor a sardonic look. 'What an informative press release.'

'Well, you know Ollivander. Unnecessarily mysterious,' David said, scanning the letter himself before he placed it back into his robes. 'I've already told him we'll be there.'

'Brilliant. Have fun finding someone,' Miriam said, before turning on the heel of her pump. A reporter off to their left yelped as David jumped over his desk and hopped between a few others so he didn't have to walk through Miriam again to face her.

'My gut's telling me this is going to be big.'

'I don't cover business's promotional events.'

'And Ollivander doesn't host them. Why would he? Doesn't need to.'

'Unless he's discovered how to tweak the magic so that his wands are a tenth of one per cent stronger,' Miriam said exasperatedly, 'and he's so chuffed that he wants to tell the world. Which is fine. But I don't cover magical technology advancements, either.'

'He didn't say he'd made a discovery,' David said, and Miriam noticed that old, excited glint in his eye that years of wartime and Death Eater threats had lately dimmed. 'He said he's made a _decision._ Tell me that doesn't pique your curiosity.'

'Not enough to override my curiosity over the death of an innocent man.'

'Miriam, look.' The glint was already dimming again. 'I have a fraction of the staff that I used to. Half the reporters have either gone into hiding or left for jobs that don't threaten the safety of their families. And the other half, well...' He peered over at Ted, portly and balding, who was running his finger down the columns of a dictionary, muttering to himself.

'Does Chimaera have one "a" or two?' asked Ted, who appeared to be terrified to even speak the name of the monster, let alone write an article about the Scamanders bringing one into London for study.

'His deadline for that assignment passed two days ago,' David muttered to Miriam. 'He keeps saying he's _researching_. Hasn't even contacted the Scamanders yet.'

'It has two a's, Ted,' Miriam said with a smile, before she turned to David. 'Fine. I'll go. But tomorrow,' she said warningly.

'Tomorrow is all yours,' David said, holding his hands up.

* * *

Todd knew he wasn't supposed to be doing this.

It was the middle of the day, in broad daylight, and he'd already seen several Muggles walking not far from the edge of the white cliffs of Dover. If he got caught, he'd get his collar felt for sure. But, he insisted to himself, it was highly unlikely anyone would catch a glimpse of him. He'd been making an effort to stay out of sight, and, besides, his Disillusionment Charm was impeccable today. It was always easy to cast them when you already wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth.

Todd — who'd been looping large, lazy figure eights just below the edge of the cliffs — pointed his broom downward and began a gentle dive toward the water. The wind was howling as the sun cast a dim light through a thin layer of gloom in the sky, and he had to concentrate to make sure that one strong gust didn't shove him straight into the side of the cliff. Maybe it was the intense concentration — the careful flying, the staying out of sight — that made flying along the coast so completely calming to Todd.

He pulled up to fly just above the water, soaring farther out towards the sea and draping a hand down to skim the freezing cold strait. He squinted toward France. He and his dad were doing the right thing, weren't they? Taking an Unbreakable Vow? He looked down, watching the water blur and sparkle beneath him as he raced across the waves blindly.

As Todd understood it, Lord Voldemort was not cold and calculating at all times, as Grindelwald had been. Voldemort had goals, ends he wanted to accomplish, but he was also prone to fits of pointless rage that obliterated everything in its wake. Dumbledore knew this, but insisted that Ollivander's wouldn't fall victim to one of those convulsions of fury. Voldemort didn't care about people; he _did,_ however, care about powerful magical objects, and people who made powerful magical objects held some value, as a result. Voldemort would no sooner end the Ollivander line than he would wipe out all British wizards entirely, Dumbledore had said.

But, if Todd and his father were to die, there was a backup plan, in the shape of the remaining wandsmiths — of Coakley, of Miss Kim, of Watts, of Sana, of Will, of Maggie. The Ollivanders knew this was a calculated risk, taking an Unbreakable Vow. But was it possible that Dumbledore was overstating the odds?

Todd felt his heart hammering in his chest, and in an attempt to distract himself, he climbed back into the sky, telling himself that he was far out enough and sufficiently concealed that he was allowed to rise into people's lines of sight. The loud whoop he gave as he climbed higher and higher was swallowed up by the roaring wind.

Satisfied and slightly dizzy, Todd slowed his ascent and floated above everything. The sea, the people. The world. The war. And his role in it.

* * *

Todd's dad didn't immediately acknowledge his son's presence as Todd ascended the spiral staircase and stepped out onto the workshop floor. It was deserted save for the elder wandmaker, seated at a table, carefully carving a nearly finished ash-wood wand.

'Where have you been?' his father asked curiously, not looking up from his work.

'Nowhere.' Todd was aware of the ridiculousness of his answer, his hair and robes intensely windswept and smelling of sea foam, his broom still in his hand. His dad was working meticulously with a small silver carving knife, smoothing out the rough parts of a spiral he'd carved into the wand to form the handle.

Todd, hesitating at first, decided to approach the table, dragging a chair over so he could sit across from his father. He settled in to watch his dad work, resting his head in his hands. A large pile of wood shavings were scattered all over the table; his dad had likely gone from unformed block of wood to a nearly finished wand just in one morning. It was fully formed, which meant his dad had already completed the wand incantation, adding the blood and thauma and core.

Garrick Ollivander's quick, deliberate knife strokes were so fast that they were nearly a blur, though he looked completely relaxed as he turned the wand rapidly in his left hand, the knife held in his long white fingers, ensuring the curves of the spiral were perfectly smooth. For a while, the only sound in the workshop was the knife quietly scraping against soft wood, small shavings hitting the table. Todd watched in silence, as hypnotised as his father was by the meditative work. He shifted his head so that it was propped up in just one hand.

'This —' Todd cleared his throat. He hadn't spoken much today. 'This aberration with the spiral,' he said softly, gesturing with his finger, keeping it a safe distance from the rapidly moving knife. 'It's intentional, isn't it? How it bunches up closely... here... but it's spaced wider apart in other sections.'

His father smiled, glancing at Todd for the first time since he'd sat down. 'I'd hardly admit to it if it weren't intentional, would I?' he said, and Todd snorted at the rare joke from his dad. 'Yes, this is exactly the sort of thing I've been encouraging you to experiment with. What do I always say? Magic thrives —'

'— thrives in asymmetry.'

'— in asymmetry, yes. Perfection is to be avoided at all costs. Look at human beings, after all,' his dad continued, finishing his work and examining the wand closely, running his thumb over the wand as he held it in his hand. He twirled the wand between his long fingers, and it emitted a number of green sparks. 'What a poor, pathetic vessel for magic's power we are. It has to muddle through our disjointed thoughts, our shifting emotions... be constrained by pre-composed commands... put up with our missteps, our imperfect wielding of this perfect, pure power. And yet,' he said softly, turning his attention to his wrist, slowly tracing a vein, 'magic flickers ever through our blood, century after century.'

Garrick Ollivander squinted again at the wand, looking a bit dubious, before he pointed it at Todd. _'Accio pocket watch.'_ It flew easily out of Todd's robes and into his dad's hand, where he flipped it open with a swift click, the golden chain connecting him to Todd. His father drew a deep, ever-so-slightly shaky breath as he looked at the time. 'Quarter to noon,' he said. 'Do you think —'

A firework exploded outside the window, and the Ollivander men stared at it.

'Moment of truth,' Todd murmured.

His father sighed, nodding. 'Let's fetch Coakley before we answer that.'

* * *

The three of them answered the door together, and Todd was the first to walk through the Thief's Downfall.

He started when he saw who was at the door. 'Oh! Hello…' he said uncertainly. 'Are you… both with…?'

'The Prophet, yes,' the female ghost said briskly. 'Miriam Hardy. And this is Ralph Walshaw, he'll be taking the photos today.'

As his dad and Coakley walked through the doorway, drying themselves off with their wands, Todd shook hands with the photographer before turning to Miriam, extending his hand, then withdrawing it awkwardly. 'Oh, er, sorry…'

'Common mistake,' she said with a wry smile. 'Mr Ollivander, Mr Coakley. Good to see you again.'

'Likewise,' Todd's father said, inclining his head and wearing an indecipherable expression. 'It's been a long time, hasn't it, Ms Hardy? At least 30 years.'

'Thirty-two,' Coakley said, a slightly disapproving look on his face.

'I hope you're not going to shoot the messenger, especially not over some very old news,' she said with a smirk, clearly sharing a memory with the two men, leaving the photographer and Todd to share a quizzical look. 'Someone already did that to me once, long before I wrote about Ollivander's. I guarantee that it'll be significantly less effective at this point.'

Todd's dad chuckled at the ghost's grim joke, and Coakley's expression softened as well. 'You were always fair, Miriam, I'll concede that,' Garrick said.

'I was more than fair,' she said pointedly. 'I always gave the two of you — or, the three of you, if I remember correctly, does that very tall witch still work here —?'

'Aye.'

'— the three of you ample space in all my articles to explain why you were no longer letting customers choose their children's own wand materials anymore. Were only having the wands choose them. As if —'

'As if they were Muggle-borns?' Garrick interjected mildly.

The ghost sighed a bit wearily. 'That was one of the arguments people were making, yes. But it wasn't what I was going to say.'

'You must've sympathised wi' that argument, somewhat,' Coakley grumbled. 'You certainly quoted it often enough.'

The ghost seemed to bristle. 'Would you have preferred if I inaccurately represented how the wizarding world was reacting to your decisions? Would you have preferred if I watered down the things people said to me when I asked them about it?'

'We'd have preferred that you'd no' have stoked the panic,' Coakley shot back, 'and given irrational fears a platform.'

'Jack, I painstakingly worked to understand and report the complex wandlore behind your decisions. And I never got a single aspect of it wrong, not one.'

Coakley scowled, but seemed to be without a retort for this. Todd's dad, ever the mediator, put a calming hand on Coakley's arm and smiled. 'Let's all go upstairs, shall we? We can do the interview up in the flat.'

He opened the door, gesturing for them to go in first, and the ghost and her photographer both jumped at the tremendous rush of water that greeted them in the doorway.

'What the — what is that?' Ralph said, aghast. 'Is that some sort of indoor storm hex?'

'Ah, no. Thief's Downfall. It's, ah, enchanted water,' Garrick said, gesturing to the waterfall in response to their blank looks. 'It removes the effects of Polyjuice Potion, human transfiguration, and the Imperius Curse. We find it's a useful protective charm to employ. In these times.'

Ralph shook his head, mouth still slightly agape. 'I can't bring my camera under that.'

'Oh,' Garrick said. Todd shot his dad a troubled look, which he returned. 'That hadn't occurred to me. Hm. Jack... do you think we could... temporarily...?'

Coakley looked dubiously at the Thief's Downfall, following Todd's dad's line of thought. 'Stop it? No. I could get rid of it, but I'd have tae work through the night conjuring up the magic again. And I donnae recommend leaving ourselves so vulnerable for such an extended period of time the day.'

Garrick nodded, frowning at the rushing water as well. He glanced to the ghost and the photographer. 'Well. I would like you to step under the Thief's Downfall all the same, if you don't mind. We'll hold your camera for you, if you just walk through and back.'

'Sorry?' Ralph said, baffled.

'Er, I'd like you to just walk under this waterfall first, without your camera. It'll have no effect on Miriam, of course, but I would at least like to confirm that you are who you say you are. Security measure, I'm sure you understand.'

'I'm sure I don't understand.'

'Is this what you all owled us here for?' the ghost cut in suddenly, looking a bit disappointed. 'This... what did you call it, a Fool's Downfall?'

'Thief's Downfall. No,' Garrick said shortly. 'We'll have to do this outside, so if we could move quickly, please.'

Todd shot his dad a startled look, and Coakley raised his eyebrows.

'Outside?' Todd repeated. 'Here? Now?'

'Yes,' Garrick said grimly, his jaw set, eyes staring straight ahead. He looked a bit pale.

'If you break it, I will murder you in your sleep,' Ralph said, gently handing off the camera to Todd. 'I hope this stuff isn't ice cold?'

'Er,' Todd said, slightly alarmed by the mild death threat, 'not ice cold, no, but it's not exactly warm either. Sorry,' he added apologetically.

Ralph sighed. 'Never a moment of peace, eh Miriam?'

'Not in this line of work.'

Garrick and Coakley eyed the photographer warily as he walked under the waterfall. (Todd thought he heard him mutter a vague 'fucking hell'. There was a bit of a chill in the air.) A second later, Ralph came back through, sopping wet, shivering and looking thoroughly unamused. He stood with his arms out, as if to say, _Satisfied?_

Garrick Ollivander, apparently, was not. 'Can you tell me who you are and why you're here today?'

'You know we're normally the ones who ask the questions?'

Todd's dad gave the photographer a brief, apologetic smile.

Ralph sighed again. 'I'm Ralph Walshaw, and, honestly, I haven't the foggiest.'

'I'm sorry, you'll need to be a bit more specific than that,' Garrick said, waving his wand, drying Ralph off instantly. He twiddled his wand in his hands as he continued, 'I just need confirmation that you're not recovering from the effects of an Imperius Curse right now. You know who you are, where you are?'

'I'm a photographer for the _Daily Prophet_ , here to shoot photos of something you want to show off, and I am reminded that I only need to get through five more bloody years of all this bollocks before I retire.'

Garrick eyed the wizard dubiously. 'That will do, I suppose.' He nodded at Coakley, who produced his wand a bit uncertainly.

'You're both still convinced this is the best way forward?'

Todd looked to his dad. Mr Ollivander hesitated for several moments before he finally nodded, resolute. 'Yes,' he said, his voice hoarse. With this validation, Todd nodded firmly as well.

Coakley eyed them with a grim, steady gaze before he took a deep breath, and nodded himself. 'Well, I donnae often say this, but... it is... an honour. Tae work wi' you. The both of you. You're both fine wandsmiths, wi' good hearts. And I'll dae everything in my power tae protect you, the both of you.'

Todd blinked, a bit startled out of his fear. His dad cleared his throat. 'Thank you Jack. That means a great deal.'

Coakley nodded gruffly and took his place between the two of them. His dad reached out his hand and Todd moved forward to grip it.

The ghost seemed suddenly electrified into attention.

'You're not... Are you...?' Her ghostly Quick Quotes Quill sprang into action, beginning to furiously scratch out notes as it hovered close to her hands.

Ralph, too, was startled into action, and began to take a few carefully aimed photos, changing angles and moving closer and farther away.

Even in the midst of this deadly serious moment, Garrick Ollivander raised an eyebrow at Todd and smiled. 'Still think I'm too much of a pacifist?'

Todd responded with a nervous grin. Coakley placed the tip of his wand on their joined hands.

'Shall you, Garrick Ollivander, continue tae sell wands tae witches and wizards, regardless of whether they are born of witches or Muggles, for the rest of your natural life, as you always have?'

Miriam yanked her parchment and Quick Quotes Quill out of the air in a frenzy and began to take rapid shorthand.

'I shall.'

A thin, white hot flame issued from Coakley's wand and looped around their hands. Todd sensed the heaviness of the magic immediately, its intensity so strong that it overpowered all his senses, and he had to breathe deeply to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head.

'And shall you, Todd Ollivander, continue tae supply wands tae witches and wizards, regardless of blood status, until your death as well?'

'I — I shall.'

A second, wire-like burst of flame shot from Coakley's wand and interlinked with the first. Todd's father's silvery eyes were burning into his own in concentration. Todd was vaguely aware of the camera's flashes of light off to the side.

'And will blood purity ever factor intae the quality of wands that you offer witches and wizards who enter your shop?'

'No,' Todd and his father said in clear, synchronous voices as the third tongue of flame shot from Coakley's wand and bound itself around their hands. The flames appeared to be vibrating, and Todd gripped his father's hand tighter and shut his eyes. Just as the heat from the magic was beginning to become unbearable, Todd felt it beginning to dissipate, and he opened his eyes to see the ropes of light around their clasped hands fading away. As it completely disappeared, the Ollivanders broke away, blinking as if awaking from a trance.

As he became aware of his surroundings again, Todd suddenly recognised that they were surrounded by a huge, loud crowd of people, and he eventually identified the noise they were making.

It was applause.

A cursory glance confirmed they were shoppers, shop-keepers, pub patrons, and anyone else they'd been able to immediately spread the word to. Many of them were smiling, some of them with tears in their eyes, and the vast majority of them were clapping enthusiastically. Todd's eyes found Madam Malkin, Mr Fortescue, Tom the barkeep, Sarah Scamander, Ernie Higgins, all beaming at him and his dad. As Todd stared, stunned, he also noted that there were also more than a few people who looked anxious, and he met Deirdre Fortescue's eyes in the crowd. Her arms crossed, she was shaking her head slightly.

Todd smiled, and gave her a small shrug.


	26. Detention

Calling someone 'Professor' who was two years older than you was weird. Having to serve detention under his supervision felt downright... absurd.

There was still half an hour before classes would begin, and Maggie desperately wanted to rub her tired, sleep-deprived eyes. That was not a great idea, seeing as she'd been handling dead Clabberts — a tree-dwelling creature with smooth, mottled-green skin that looked like a cross between a monkey and a frog — since sunrise.

She tried not to gag as she spooned out yet another eyeball from one of the creatures. 'Are you sure you want these all in the same jar?' she asked Snape, grimacing as she held the eyeball up to her eyeball of her own. 'They seem to be congealing a bit, won't that — ?'

'Do as you're told,' the 20-year-old professor said, not looking up from his desk as he graded essays while she worked.

Maggie made an exasperated face to herself as she turned the spoon over, letting the eyeball fall into the jar with the others with a sickening _plep._

 _'_ I suspect,' Snape said, scribbling what was likely an overly harsh comment into the margins of one of the essays, 'you wouldn't question instructions put to you by any other professor.'

Maggie gave a mild shrug. 'Honestly, I have a bad habit of questioning every —'

'Let me be clear,' he continued, ignoring her. 'We are not peers. I am the Potions Master here at Hogwarts, and will be treated as such. You are an average student, at best, who —'

'Well,' Maggie said, frowning, 'I got an "Exceeds Expectations" in my Potions O.W.L., so, technically speaking, that's above av—'

'Which means you failed to grasp 15 per cent of basic Potions concepts,' Snape snapped, finally looking up. 'You wouldn't even be in my N.E.W.T. class if it were up to me, but Dumbledore overruled my request that I only accept students with "Outstanding" at O.W.L. He, like you, and everyone else at this school, seems to think it's acceptable to question every decision I try to make as a professor. But let me be clear: Flitwick has saddled me with your detention for the next several months because you're struggling in Potions. I know it, Flitwick knows it, and so do you. Extra tutoring in Potions ought to be a reward earned, not a punishment, and I've not seen such favourtism since — _twenty points from Ravenclaw_ , _Gibson!'_ he spat suddenly, a reaction almost certainly spurred by the absurd face Maggie inadvertently made to hear Snape describe detention with himself as a _reward._

Maggie didn't even bother to be indignant, instead blinking in disbelief as she returned to the soggy work before her, still pondering the concept of anyone in the universe eagerly seeking out dawn detentions with Severus Snape.

As if reading her thoughts, Snape continued, 'Your arrogance is unbelievable, that you're anything but grateful to be sorting through potions ingredients in the dungeons with me, rather than being exiled back to the Muggle world that you managed to crawl out of. I can't imagine that anyone other than James Potter himself would have dodged expulsion after doing something as insolent as _Apparating home,_ just popping out of school for a little field trip to London,' he sneered.

To be fair, this was a pretty accurate assessment of the situation. Maggie was lucky to be _alive_ , let alone still enrolled in Hogwarts. Flitwick had been livid when Maggie returned from Diagon Alley. Apparently missing three consecutive classes in one day triggered the notification of a student's head of House, and considering the conversation they'd just had that morning, Flitwick easily guessed where Maggie had gone. When she arrived, breathlessly, to her last class of the day (Charms), she could tell she was in trouble from the furious look Flitwick gave her as she took her seat. But she could not have anticipated the pure, apoplectic fury she encountered from her professor as he kept her after class. Students later told her they were unable to identify the voice they could hear ringing through the halls from the Charms classroom, because no one had ever heard an irate Professor Flitwick before.

And Snape wasn't wrong, either, that Flitwick likely gave Maggie a Potions-themed detention because that was the subject she struggled with the most, and time spent in detention meant less time she could spend revising, which made it less likely she would earn a passing grade in that particular... well... nastily exhausting wizarding test.

So, yes. The idea had likely been somewhat of an act of mercy on Flitwick's part. But Snape gave her mind-numbing work, and either ignored her questions or simply used them as opportunities to insult her. So it still just meant she was more tired, and more resentful, in the evenings when she opened her Potions textbooks to revise.

'Of course,' Snape said silkily, returning to his work before him, 'I'm really not giving you the credit you're due for just how accurately you assessed the risk you took. In an ideal world, the best use of a Seventh Year's time would be to focus on their schoolwork. But the wizarding world isn't a meritocracy, is it? And you seem to understand better than most students the most effective way to secure an impressive apprenticeship. I suppose any time investment you make with Todd Ollivander is valuable time well spent, on your part.'

Maggie worked to keep her breathing steady as she dissected the Clabbert before her, dragging the small blade carefully around the large pustule in the middle of its forehead so as to keep that organ unharmed as she attempted to obtain it for students' potions ingredients. This was not the first time that Snape had touched on this opinion of his during her detentions with him.

'Who do you think was ultimately denied a spot at Ollivander's, because the heir to the Ollivander fortune fancied one of the less-talented applicants?' he said, quietly posing the question mildly, almost to himself, as if it were a curious philosophical query. 'Do you think it's someone we know? Maybe they've already inquired about an apprenticeship, and have been turned down.' He dipped his quill in the jar at his desk, looking thoughtful. 'Or, maybe it's a young student, someone who hasn't even had a careers advice meeting yet, someone to whom the idea hasn't even yet occurred. And in a few years time, they'll approach Ollivander's and ask about a position, and be told that the wandsmiths all currently have apprentices, unfortunately.'

Maggie drew in a sharp, ragged breath as she accidentally nicked the pustule as she attempted to cut the surrounding veins and free it from the Clabbert's head.

'You can throw that in the bin, it's useless now,' Snape hissed, striding over to Maggie to stand behind her and view the damaged organ. A Clabbert's danger-sensing pustule was used in Forewarning Draughts, and that liquid was often used to fill and power Sneakoscopes. At least... Maggie thought that was correct. Wasn't it? She couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything. She tossed the organ in a nearby bin, feeling hopelessly unqualified and stupid as she watched it fall.

'You're putting yourself in danger,' Snape said quietly as he continued to stand behind her. His voice was somewhat different now. 'Even during peacetime, people do not like the idea of a Muggle-born crafting their wands. Ollivander's is not the place for someone like you. Not now. I am... _certain_... that it's unsafe.'

Maggie checked her watch. 'It's quarter-to-eight,' she said tightly as she began clearing her workstation. 'I don't think I'll have time for breakfast, but I at least want to wash up before Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'Very well,' Snape said, returning to his desk and to his snide demeanour. 'Let's hope you have more luck with dragon surgeries than you do with Clabbert dissections. It doesn't seem likely, though, does it? Dragons are... _slightly_ bigger, after all.'

Maggie kept telling herself not to touch her eyes as she swept out of Snape's classroom and made her way up and out of the dungeons.

* * *

'I brought you toast,' Robbie said as Maggie hurried into the large-ish N.E.W.T.-level Defence Against the Dark Arts class before their professor arrived. Robbie didn't seem to notice that she was upset as he handed her breakfast without looking at her. 'You've also got another love letter from Todd Ollivander,' he said coldly, also handing off a envelope. 'You know, I've actually begun to recognise his handwrit —'

'Oh, piss off, Robbie,' Maggie hissed as her turbulent emotions boiled over into anger, and Robbie, and several students, turned to look at her, startled. 'Do you think I give a flying _fuck_ what Todd Ollivander has to say to me?' She snatched the letter out of his hands and incinerated it instantly in one brief, intense burst of flame from her wand, and a few people jumped back from the heat. 'I wish Garrick Ollivander had a bloody daughter instead! Like a 40-year-old daughter, with a husband and a baby and an English bloody Mastiff, who was only mildly interested in learning my name.'

Robbie cracked a nervous smile, eyeing her warily. 'Well, I don't think the Mastiff would be interested in learning your name at all. Not unless you fed him.'

Maggie did not react to this joke, and Robbie cleared his throat. She looked slightly deranged, and everyone in the class was staring at her out of the corner of their eyes while she sat in a desk with her arms crossed, breathing sharply through her nose and staring straight ahead. A nervous thought occurred to her in her haze that Todd hopefully hadn't shared another thousand-year-old document with her, this time through the post.

'I mean...' Robbie said, slowly and carefully, 'you certainly cared the last time he wrote to you, you raced to his bedside, after all...'

'I think everyone, including me, recognises what a massive mistake that was,' she snapped.

'Right,' Robbie said, still looking at her uncertainly. 'Well... good. I mean... he's a twat.'

Maggie wrenched her textbook out of her rucksack and violently banged it on her desk.

'Oh... erm... Maggie?'

She said nothing, lost in distraught thought.

'It's... ah... a practical day today,' Robbie reminded her tentatively. 'We don't need our books.'

'Right. Brilliant,' she said as Robbie whisked her book out of the way before she could incinerate that as well.


	27. House Call

'Remind me which one is a pound coin again?'

Todd squinted in the dim lantern light at the handful of coins in Malkin's outstretched palm as the two of them stood talking in Diagon Alley. 'These ones,' he said, picking out three coins. 'You can tell because they're the ones that say "one pound",' he said with a grin.

'Oh, ha ha,' Derek said mildly, taking the coins from Todd and placing them in his left jeans pocket while he placed the rest of the coins in his right.

'Going somewhere tonight?'

'Yeah, taking Cecilia to the cinema,' Derek said as the two of them started walking south.

'Cecilia?' Todd raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Cecilia Boot?'

'Yeah.' Derek smiled and shrugged. 'We've sort of reconnected.'

'Given up on Sarah, have you?'

'I have. I know when to take a hint.'

'By hint, I think you mean direct rejection,' he joked, regretting it as soon as he saw the look on Malkin's face. 'Sorry, mate.'

'Ah well. Plenty of selkies in the sea. I'm planning to amuse Cecilia with a bit of a Muggle night. Take a taxi, see a film, the whole cheesy thing.'

Todd grinned. 'Do you remember when you and Deirdre and I snuck out to go to a Muggle pub when we were 16?'

Derek grinned as he walked, reminiscing. 'And Deirdre _insisted_ that we go some place all the way across town and that we take a cab there?'

'I couldn't believe it when I flagged one down. I figured that would be the hardest part, I thought everything else would go off without a hitch.'

'But then once we got there,' Derek cut in, 'the driver said, "Right, that'll be fifteen quid".'

'And we all looked at each other, completely nervous and confused,' Todd said, outright laughing now. 'So I leaned forward and said —'

 _'Er, we haven't got any quids — will you take pound notes?'_

The two of them cracked up laughing, and Todd stopped in front of Flourish and Blotts. 'I'm stopping in here for a bit,' Todd said. 'Good luck tonight. Hopefully you'll navigate the Muggle world better than we did that night.'

'If I make a fool of myself, I can always just do what you did, when that driver looked at you like you were completely mental. "Ah, sorry, my English isn't very good" — with absolutely no foreign accent whatsoever.'

Todd's laugh carried into the surprisingly quiet bookshop as he opened the door, and it was only as everyone in the crowd turned toward him to stare that he realised he was late to the reading. He winced and waved goodbye to Derek.

'Sorry,' he whispered, snatching a copy of Charity Burbage's new book off a nearby table before he squeezed between a bookshelf and a group of witches to find a place for himself in the back.

Professor Burbage appeared as if she were trying not to laugh as she turned back to the crowd. 'As I was saying,' she said, 'it's fairly advanced magic, but enchanting a small piece of parchment to become a Gringotts credit card is the most efficient way to navigate the Muggle world. Not only is Confunding a bit exhausting, but it simply becomes impractical in certain circumstances. Do you really want to have to Confund several different staff at a nice hotel while on holiday just because they won't take the paper Muggle currency you're offering? And you can do the same, to enchant parchment so that it becomes acceptable Muggle documentation. Should you really have to Confund your agent and an elderly couple just because they're asking for your bank's preapproval documents in the midst of a house purchase?'

Todd was familiar with this documentation suggestion of Burbage's. Many of her students had been taking her advice for years, albeit in ways in which she might not entirely approve. It was this exact charm that allowed Todd and Derek to successfully be served at a Muggle pub at 16 with believable-looking driving licences.

'I don't think I have to give examples,' she continued, 'of the trouble that sometimes arises when you produce your wand in the presence of someone who doesn't know what it is. People can pick up on the sense of purpose with which you draw it, on how you're focusing on them. It's unnerving, to say the least, and we all know how badly things can go wrong.'

Those in the crowd nodded, understanding. Even if you had no issues with the ethics of it, Confunding was still a messy business. Muggles would sometimes react in self-defence, punching the wand-holder — or sometimes Muggles would grab at the wand in alarm, snapping it or causing the charm to shoot off in the wrong direction.

'It's no good to Confund people at a register office, either. It's too open,' said a young man in the crowd with a Northern accent. 'You need loads of documents that wizards don't typically have if you want to get a — a marriage certificate. With someone.' Colour crept into his cheeks, but he spoke with pride. He didn't expand; the implication was dangerous enough, in these times.

His statement had opened the door. Todd could feel the sudden, nervous energy in the crowd, and it was a familiar feeling. Charity Burbage often held book signings at Flourish and Blotts, and it was this exact energy that had intrigued him to sign up for Muggle Studies five years ago.

'Better not to have a marriage certificate though, isn't it?' a middle-aged wizard said gruffly. 'No paper trail.'

A tall, gangly witch who was standing next to him with her arms crossed gave a quick, sharp laugh. 'Do you _really_ think they're conducting Muggle background checks?'

'I wouldn't put anything past them, when it comes to digging up incriminating evidence.'

'Does your book explain how to enchant pieces of parchment into these sorts of documents, exactly?' A squat witch with an anxious face had raised her hand to get Burbage's attention, her voice shaking slightly. 'Muggle schools require quite a bit of documentation.'

 _'Why,_ in the name of _Merlin,_ would you enroll a child in a Muggle school in these times?' someone asked incredulously.

The woman's face flushed. She began to mutter about how her son, at nine years old, hadn't yet shown any magical ability, and it was time to come to terms with things, and that, all things considered, he'd likely be much better off, finding a place for himself in —

'Yes, my book does go into that, in great detail,' Professor Burbage said, cutting her off, and the witch looked incredibly relieved to be able to stop explaining herself. 'I'm also more than willing to walk you through it one-on-one, afterward. Mr Ollivander here is also more than capable of explaining the charm to anyone who may be interested, I'm sure he would be willing to assist as well.'

Todd watched the attendees peer around in confusion toward the area where the professor had gestured, almost certainly scanning the room for an old, enigmatic man with grey hair and unblinking, pale eyes. Todd cleared his throat and rose his hand.

'She means me,' he said, slightly embarrassed, but happy to help.

* * *

'Sorry to volunteer you like that, Todd,' Professor Burbage said, smiling warmly at him as he made his way over to her after helping several people learn the complex enchantment. The crowd was beginning to disperse, and the people who'd remained were scattered throughout the bookshop, immersed in sombre conversation with each other.

'I don't mind at all,' he said. 'I would've volunteered myself anyway.'

'We're just a couple of hopeless bleeding hearts, aren't we?' she said, laughing. 'Offering a service for free that people would pay good money for. I imagine it's in your blood. Your father hasn't raised the price for wands in thirty years, has he?'

'I always try to explain to him what a horrendous idea that is, not to raise the price with inflation,' Todd said wryly. 'The reality is, we really don't need the money. We make so much in profits from selling spare unicorn hair and dragon blood that we can keep the price of wands ridiculously low. He always says no one should ever be too poor to buy a wand.'

'Well, you can imagine why self-promotion isn't particularly important to me when it comes to normalising this sort of document-forging policy among wizards,' she said, lowering her voice.

'It is clever of you,' Todd replied softly. 'It could drastically cut down on day-to-day use of the Confundus Charm.'

'It _is_ practical,' she said, muffling their conversation a bit with an overly noisy gathering of her things. 'No need to go into the ethics of regular Muggle memory-wiping when you can simply offer an alternative that makes things easier for wizards anyway.'

'I will never cease to be impressed by your Muggle-rights subterfuge,' he said with a grin. 'Are you Apparating back to Hogwarts today?'

'Heavens, no,' she said, laughing as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. 'A journey of this distance always wipes me out, I'm far too exhausted from the one-way trip alone. I'll be staying with a friend in London, and then returning to Scotland tomorrow.'

'Well, good. Because I was wondering — if it's not too much trouble — if you could remind me again how to look up a phone number. I tried to ring directory inquiries today, and it was a colossal failure.'

* * *

It wasn't that Maggie disapproved of Simon smoking the occasional spliff. But it just never felt right to do it around her. For once in her life, Maggie deserved a guardian who wasn't under the influence of one substance or another the majority of the time, even if it was something as innocuous as pot.

And seeing as Maggie would be back at home in about a week for the Christmas holidays, Simon decided to indulge before she returned.

He leaned out the window, ready to take his first drag, as he peered down into the street, watching the flow of people and cars six floors below. The unlit spliff in his mouth, he fumbled in his pocket for a lighter, and, much to Simon's displeasure, the phone rang.

He took the spliff out of his mouth and turned his attention back to the flat with a frown. He let it ring five times before he sighed, walked across the room and plopped down onto the sofa to pick up the receiver. 'Hello?'

'Ah, Simon! Hi. Er. Sorry to bother you like this... How — how are you?'

Simon blinked, brow furrowed, as he sought to place the voice. 'Sorry... oo's this?'

Simon heard the person on the other end curse softly, as if he'd pulled the receiver away from his face for a brief second. 'Sorry, I always forget to — Todd. This is Todd Ollivander.'

'Todd Ollivander?'

'Yes — I don't know if you recall, Maggie and I work together, and I've been to your place once before —'

'Yeah, of course I remember you,' Simon said sharply, cutting him off. 'Why? 'as somefhing happened to Maggie?'

'Er, no. At least, I don't think so. I was actually contacting you to find out if... if _you_ knew if something was wrong.'

'What... what are you on about?' Simon said, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice. 'For fuck's sake, if Maggie's been 'urt, you're doing a shit job of informing me —'

'No no no no no, nothing's wrong.' Todd's hasty voice sounded tinny through the phone receiver. 'I haven't heard anything about Maggie at all. As far as I know, everything's fine. Sorry, look, I — I just thought I'd phone you _because_ I haven't heard from Maggie. She's not returning my letters, and it's just... it's just, I don't know, it's odd. It's not like her. Sorry. I'm a bit paranoid these days, I'm sure everything's fine. I just wanted to find out if — if _you_ knew anything, if you heard she's ill or something.'

Simon shifted the phone to his other ear, his heart rate just beginning to return to something that was no longer heart attack-inducing. 'So... right, so, you're asking me if I've 'eard from Maggie? That don't make sense, you know she's still at school, right?'

'Yeah, no, I know...'

'I guess I 'eard from her, maybe, two weeks ago? Got a letter from an owl, she seemed fine then. And I ent heard nuffing from 'ogwarts. Is there some news I should've got?'

'Oh, ok. Two weeks ago? Well good, that's good to hear... I guess everything's probably fine then...'

'Jesus, Todd, I nearly shat myself,' Simon said, annoyed. 'No wizard's ever rung me before, I assumed somefhing really bad 'ad happened.'

'Sorry, I didn't handle this well,' Todd said. 'I really am sorry.'

'I can't believe you even know how to use a phone. I've known Alice for... seven years? And it's always seemed completely beyond her.'

'Well, Alice probably doesn't know the joys of takeaway curry,' Todd said, and Simon could hear him grinning on the other end.

'Where are you even calling from now?'

'In a phone-box. On Charing Cross Road.'

Simon shook his head, baffled. He was still trying to work out Todd Ollivander, the bloke who had put a hand on the fridge and asked, 'This is massive, what's this for?'

'So... is it really that strange that Maggie 'asn't answered your letter?' Simon asked.

 _'Letters.'_

'Letters? Well, 'ow many 'ave you sent 'er?'

There was a pause on the other end. 'Thr... two. Er, I think just... two, since she last wrote to me.'

Simon suppressed a snort. 'Well, you know, she's busy. A-levels, or whatever it is you lot have.'

'Yeah... yeah, that's true...'

'Honestly, now that you've got me all worried, I'll probably write to 'er today. I'll tell 'er that the people she works with are worried about 'er, right?'

'Oh ok. Brilliant. Yeah, yeah, tell her I called,' Todd said, brightening. 'Tell her I know how to use a telephone. I think she'd like that.'

'Oookay...' _Absolutely mental._ 'Sure fing, mate.'

'Right. Well. Sorry about all this. Have a good, erm, ah — goodbye, then.'

'Wait — Todd. Er, 'ang on.'

'Hm?'

'Er. I am quite glad you called,' Simon said, glancing at the wall behind which Maggie's bedroom existed. 'There is somefhing... I could use your help wiv.'

'You need my help?' Todd sounded surprised on the other end. 'Yeah sure, of course. Name it.'

Simon glanced nervously at the wall again. 'Look, I dunno much about the wizarding world, so I dunno how stupid this is going to sound. I fink... I fink Maggie's bedroom might be — look.' Simon sighed, trying again. 'I think there's somefhing in Maggie's bedroom. I've been hearing it a couple of days now. I think it might be a rat.'

'A rat?'

'Yeah.'

'Sorry... I don't completely follow... You want me to get a rat out of Maggie bedroom?'

'I want you to at least let me in. I can't go in her room.'

Todd laughed. 'What, no brothers allowed?'

'It's a secret fing... See, ah, I can't really afford a flat wiv two bedrooms. It's... well.' Simon cleared his throat. 'Long story short, I was sleeping on the sofa when I took Maggie in years ago. I let Maggie 'ave the bedroom. When Flitwick visited, to tell me and Maggie about 'ogwarts, 'e offered to build Maggie 'er own bedroom,' he said, rushing through the details. He was glad he was talking to Todd on the phone, so he didn't have to see Todd look awkward or, worse, pitying. 'A secret, magic one. It's mad, honestly, I forget it's there 'alf the time. That wall ought to go straight into our neighbour's flat, but 'e made Maggie this quaint little room, I've no idea how it's possible.

'Anyway,' Simon continued gruffly, taking a breath, 'in case the landlord ever comes by, we can't have him seeing anover bedroom in a flat that's not meant to have one. So Flitwick made it just look like a wall. Maggie can open it, but I can't. I've tried. The door handle only seems to appear for 'er. And this week, I started hearing this scratching noise coming from the cupboard in 'er room.'

'Hm. A hidden room...' Todd muttered to himself. 'That could be a few different spells... It could simply be charmed to hide from Muggles... Though, it'd also be possible to allow the room to only respond to her... But even if it _were,_ there are potentially a few things I could do to force it to appear, all the same... Right, okay,' he said, suddenly brisk. 'I'll be there in ten seconds.' And the phone went dead.

* * *

Todd regretted hanging the phone off so quickly. Were you still meant to say goodbye, even when you were about to see that person an instant later? He ran his hands nervously through his hair as he looked at the replaced receiver. Ah well. Professor Burbage wasn't with him anymore, so he'd have to ask her about that nuance of phone etiquette another time.

He peered through the windows of the phone box, to see if he might be concealed enough to Apparate from here, but then he jumped as he saw an older woman, her hair kept under a handkerchief, waiting for the telephone.

'Sorry,' he said, struggling with the door for a second before he exited and let her in. He shoved his hands awkwardly into the pockets of his trousers, his hands not going in exactly the right place out of robe-wearing muscle memory, and made his way briskly down Charing Cross Road.

He slipped into the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, who'd been more than a little baffled lately by Todd's noticeable long-term absence from the pub, gave him a surprised wave. He raised the glass he'd been polishing, as if to say, _The usual?_

Todd smiled and shook his head sadly before, out of habit, he moved to tip his hat that wasn't on his head to Tom and turned on the spot.

He Apparated in a way that immediately knocked over what seemed like every single item in the maintenance cupboard down the corridor from the Gibsons' flat. He lunged forward, grasping in the dark to right all the strange overturned items in the room, and reflected briefly on what an undertaking cleaning must be without magic.

He opened the door cautiously, peering around, but luckily there was no one in sight.

The Gibsons' flat was the last door on the right, and Todd made his way toward it.

The fact was, he'd technically sent Maggie _four_ letters, none of which she'd returned. But one of the letters had simply just been an invitation to the Ollivander's annual office Christmas party, and besides, there was no need for him to look so pathetic in front of Simon.

Everything was probably fine. Hogwarts would surely have to alert Maggie's guardian if something bad had happened, right? The problem was, Todd had a sneaking suspicion that Hogwarts had less concern for Muggle guardians than wizarding ones. The logistics of contacting them, placating them, explaining things to them, and possibly having them come to Hogwarts were potentially enough trouble to cause Dumbledore and McGonagall to wave off their responsibility of keeping Muggle guardians informed except in the most dire of circumstances.

Also, there was possibly another, much more reasonable and much more depressing reason that Maggie was ignoring Todd's letters. So Todd preferred to think she'd probably come down with a nasty case of spattergroit, instead.

He knocked on the Gibsons' door. A moment later, Simon answered the door, looking taken aback.

'I don't fink I'll ever get used to this,' Simon muttered, eyebrows raised.

'Sorry, I'm a bit later than I said I'd be,' Todd said, pulling out his pocket watch and checking the time. 'Two minutes instead of ten seconds. I had to walk back into Diagon Alley to Apparate.'

'Right, that two-minute commute from the West End is rough,' Simon said sardonically, and Todd grinned. 'Come on in, fhanks for coming 'ere.'

'I remember thinking this place was too small for two people,' Todd said as he strode inside, peering around at each wall, trying to guess where the secret bedroom was.

'We do OK,' Simon said stonily.

'No, no I just mean — I just remember wondering where the second bedroom was,' Todd muttered, running his hand over one of the walls, feeling the heat rise in his face as he kicked himself for the inadvertent insult. 'Figured it was down here somewhere, possibly, I dunno,' Todd said, gesturing vaguely to a short corridor that led to the bathroom. 'So, erm, what've you been hearing, exactly?'

'I'll be honest, it don't sound... exactly like a rat,' Simon said, walking to what Todd assumed was the correct part of the living room (Todd was in completely the wrong area). He pressed his ear to the wall. 'I'm 'oping it ent a larger animal. But then again, I 'ate rats, so... maybe I'd rather a larger animal.'

'What are the parameters of Maggie's bedroom?' Todd said, taking out his wand as he peered at the wall.

'Here to here... But, like I said, it don't really make sense. Sometimes when I listen against the wall, I hear our neighbour on the other side. None of it really makes sense.'

Todd nodded, lost in thought as he stared intently at the wall. He began running one his hands over the wall, wand in the other hand.

'You need to get lower,' Simon said.

'Sorry?'

'Flitwick's a tiny bugger,' Simon said, crouching down. 'He put the door handle somewhere here.'

'Ah.' Todd laughed. 'Of course.'

He moved his hand lower along the wall for a while before, finally, he stopped — he felt a very faint heat in one part of the wall and felt an inexplicable something that made his heartbeat just slightly quicken. Magic.

He examined that area, feeling in vain for a door handle that didn't appear. 'Does Maggie ever… _do_ anything when she opens the door?'

Simon frowned at the wall, thinking. 'She does it so fast these days…' He moved forward a bit, and Todd took a step back. Simon raised his hands hesitantly as if he were about to place them on the wall. 'I've never fhought about it before… but she opens it wiv two 'ands…'

Still crouching down, he placed his left hand on what would've been a door handle and stretched his right hand up, pressing it firmly against the wall. This confused Todd.

'Does the door swing out?'

'Yeah,' Simon said, miming what appeared to be the action of pulling a stubborn door open.

'OK. Right, let's try that.' Simon moved aside again and Todd took his place, mirroring Simon's actions. Sure enough, Todd sensed the same kind of magic when he placed his right hand on the higher spot on the wall. He experimentally began to push against the wall, trying to will a door into being. 'And she doesn't use her wand, right?'

'Nah.'

'Yeah, no, that would've been against the rules, anyway, when she was underage,' Todd said absentmindedly. He made a light noise of frustration, taking a step back from the wall when nothing happened. In his head, he ran through the various enchantments Flitwick could cast to make such a thing happen. And, with a flicker of irritation, Todd conceded that there were probably more than a few hundred advanced charms Flitwick knew of that Todd didn't.

It was possible the door would only appear for Maggie, and Maggie only. But that would be absurd, wouldn't it? Flitwick would only need to hide the door from the landlord, right?

Todd moved back in place, bracing his hands awkwardly against the wall again, and began to run his right hand over the higher spot on the wall again. He must've looked like an idiot to Simon, but out of pure curiosity he was tapping that area of the wall, lightly running the pads of his fingers over it, doing anything he could to try to figure out why the hell Maggie would need to place her hand here to open a door.

And then, as he moved his hand down and slightly to the right, it connected with what felt like a very small, very thin piece of metal. And everything, quite literally, clicked as he moved it down.

Todd grinned. Weren't puzzles fun? 'It's a latch!' he said, and a door handle suddenly appeared where his left hand was. He opened it, rushed forward, and immediately hit his head on the very short doorframe in his eagerness.

'Ah, sorry, mate,' Simon said apologetically as Todd stumbled back. 'She also sort of ducks down when she goes inside, nowadays. She didn't 'ave to, when she was younger.'

'No worries,' Todd said, still grinning despite the mild welt he felt forming on his forehead. 'Get in!' he said happily, peering inside the bedroom. 'Literally.'

Simon chuckled as the two of them ducked inside, and Todd looked around curiously. The bedroom, unsurprisingly, was somewhat little girl-ish. Todd knew that Derek, for example, had only recently transformed his room to something befitting an adult. There wasn't that much incentive for students who spent the majority of their time at a boarding school to update their rooms as their tastes changed.

A soft pink duvet covered the twin bed, and there were several posters on the walls of static, unmoving winged horses. Todd wondered with a smile if she'd had those before learning they were real. Not all the images in the room were the sort of eerie, frozen-in-place Muggle ones, however. Todd was reminded of another reason the room needed to be kept secret from the landlord, when he saw a cork board covered in moving photographs, mounted above a desk.

He leaned forward with interest, examining the photos, most of which were pictures of Maggie with Alice Longbottom, the two of them laughing and waving. In some of these photos, Alice would've been Alice Harper at the time, though a good deal of them were photos from the Longbottoms' wedding. Alice and Frank waved at Todd, beaming.

It looked like Maggie had been a bridesmaid. She winked at Todd from another photo in which she was clad in burgundy dress robes, loose ringlets falling out of her pinned-back hair and a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. He took in the photo for far too long until she finally gave him an amused look and an exaggerated shrug that said, _Can I help you?_ Todd chuckled and smiled apologetically, but his grin evaporated as soon as Robbie Ellerby swept into the photo like a twat, covering Maggie's eyes with his hands as he stood behind her, and she giggled silently.

'Guess who?' Todd muttered in a sarcastic falsetto. 'It's me, a dickhead.'

'What?' Simon said, confused, from the other end of the room.

'Er, nothing,' Todd said, straightening up. 'So, er... where do you think we should look first? Maybe under the bed?'

And then Todd and Simon both nearly jumped out of their skin, as a enormous ruckus suddenly came from the built-in cupboard. It sounded like a rouge Quaffle was bouncing erratically inside the cupboard.

'Fucking _hell_ —

 _'What the ever-loving_ —

The two of them backed quickly to the other side of the room. Simon looked alarmed. So did Todd, though that was only because he knew exactly what that sound meant.

'I _'ope_ that's not a rat,' Simon said, looking at the door with horror, 'because that'd be the largest bleeding rat in Britain. Maybe a raccoon…'

'That's not a raccoon,' Todd said miserably. 'I'd know that sound anywhere. It's a Boggart.'

'A… what?'

'It's a monster,' Todd said, wondering to himself if he ought to just contact the Ministry to deal with this. 'It transforms into whatever you're afraid of. They tend to avoid Muggle homes, though, it's magic they're drawn to. It's actually fairly fascinating that it found its way here. It must've sensed the magic here, sensed the enchantment on the door and the Undetectable Extension Charm. And whatever other magical objects Maggie has in here.'

 _'"It's a monster that transforms into whatever you're afraid of"?'_ Simon repeated back incredulously. 'I'll pass, fhanks. You've got to be fucking kidding me.'

'It's not as bad as it sounds. But, granted, that's only if what you're afraid of is fairly manageable,' Todd said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Simon, unfortunately, could not have picked a worse wizard to sort out a Boggart. 'Erm, am I correct in assuming that Flitwick told you and Maggie not to tell anyone about this bit of magic he did for you?'

'Yeah… 'e did say 'e was — er — sort of _bending_ the rules for us,' Simon said, still very warily eyeing the built-in cupboard. 'Said it'd be best if it were just between the fhree of us.'

Todd sighed. 'OK. I'm going to get someone. Maybe, urgh, I dunno who I could grab… Wait. Hm,' he said, suddenly struck by an idea. 'What if… sorry, I know it's a very personal question, but… what are _you_ afraid of, Simon?'

Simon blinked. 'What?'

'Do you know… what the Boggart might turn into if… if _you_ were to stand in front of it? And maybe I could deal with it while I stood… er… sort of behind you, I guess.'

Simon looked at him very dubiously. 'Er, sorry mate, this wasn't exactly what I fhought I was signing up for when I asked you to come help out...'

Todd nodded, backing off. 'Yeah, no, that's understandable. Give me a day or so, I think I can come up with an extermination plan pretty quickly. Just give me some time to gather a team together, and I'll get this sorted…'

Simon sighed, eyeing Todd unhappily. 'If we do this now… you think you can… get rid of it now? On the spot? And I won't need to worry about it anymore?'

'I think so, yeah. Honestly, it depends what you're afraid of.'

He sighed again. 'Yeah, right, well… I guess you might as well stick around, because I fhink it might just turn into what I fhought it was in the first place. Rats. But,' Simon said, rubbing his face, 'it might be _loads_ of rats.'

'Oh. Hm. Yeah?' Todd squinted at Simon sceptically. 'You think so? I mean, think about it for a bit, what you're most afraid of. You really think it would just be something like a rodent?'

'Er… yeah, I'm sure.' Simon gave an inadvertent shudder.

'It's usually a phobia that's tied to a bad experience. It's got to really affect you, on an emotional level.'

'Trust me, mate,' Simon said dully. 'If you grew up on the council estate where I grew up, you'd 'ave some right traumatizing memories of vermin, yourself.'

'Right,' he said softly. He nodded. 'OK. How _many_ rats do you think will appear?'

Simon shrugged, that dull expression still on his face. 'You tell me, mate. Should I expect the most I've ever seen, or the number I'd find the most terrifying? 'Cause that that second one's sort of —'

'— limitless,' Todd finished with a grim smile. 'Right, OK, I've a sense of what we're getting ourselves into, here. But this is good, I have an idea. So, the key here is that I have to turn this fear of yours into something funny.'

'Funny?'

'Yeah, something that makes you laugh.'

Simon squinted at him. 'Wait a minute… So… wait. What are _you_ afraid of?'

'Doesn't matter,' Todd said briskly. 'We're not going to see it, as long as I execute this the way I hope to.'

'Hm.' Simon raised an eyebrow. 'Well… there's nuffing about those disgusting buggers I would ever find amusing.'

'Well,' Todd said, animated, 'what if they were all to get into some sort of formation, and start singing a song of some sort? Like, er…' Todd racked his brains. It'd be best if it were something Simon recognised. 'Like a Beatles song!'

'The Beatles?' Simon looked incredibly dubious.

'Or, the… the… Bee Gees! I can do the Bee Gees. But, unfortunately, I think that's about the extent of my knowledge of Muggle music, sorry.'

'Well that's a bloody shame,' Simon said wryly.

'What do you think?'

Simon sighed. 'Right, OK. Fuck it. Let's turn them into The Beatles. 'opefully that don't make them ten times more 'orrifying.'

'OK. You've got to stand in front of the closet… here,' Todd said, moving him into place. Simon looked more than a little annoyed to be used as a human shield. Todd cleared his throat awkwardly. 'And I'll stand… back here. Sorry. OK. Now, whatever you see, remember — it's not real,' Todd said firmly. 'It's just a... _copy_ of a thing you're afraid of. That's important to remember.'

Simon turned around to look at Todd warily. 'If it's a beast or a monster, can it attack us?'

'You don't need to worry about that,' Todd said, his eyes on the cupboard as he gamely twiddled his wand between his fingers. 'I'll make sure it's gone long before it's a risk. Ready?'

'All — all right.'

'One, two, three!' Todd pointed his wand at the closet, and the door flew open, and an older, drunken-looking man suddenly burst out, gritting his teeth as he lumbered toward Simon menacingly.

'FUCK!' Simon shouted, caught off guard. He backed quickly up against the wall.

'That's all right, that's all right,' Todd said loudly, trying to take control of the situation, despite the fact that he was taken aback as well. Simon, apparently, had a deeper fear that hadn't occurred to him, and Todd's mind raced as he frantically tried to think up ways to make this man seem less terrifying when he didn't even know who he was.

 _'Riddikulus!'_ Todd shouted, pointing his wand at the man, and with a crack, the man was suddenly donning Deidre's form-fitting pink robes. Todd gave a genuine snort. 'I don't think that's your colour, mate.' But Simon wasn't laughing, and the Boggart grabbed him by the collar and slammed him up against the wall.

'Did I, or did I not, tell you to TURN DOWN THAT FUCKING MUSIC?' the balding man roared in a thick Cockney accent. Despite his attire, and despite the fact that Simon seemed far sturdier than this man, Simon had frozen up entirely against the wall, a look of pure terror etched across his face.

'Simon! Just — just — remember, _it's not bloody real!_ What the — !' Todd's eyes widened as he saw the Boggart rear its fist back while he held Simon against the wall with its other hand, and Todd lunged toward the two of them before it could clock Simon.

'Get — OFF — him — you — fucking — bastard,' Todd said, grunting, as he grabbed the Boggart's shoulders back and pushed his own foot against the wall to get enough leverage to pull the man off of Simon, who still seemed to be frozen in place. Unfortunately, this meant that the Boggart turned toward him, and with a _crack!_ Todd suddenly found himself face-to-face with the person who, no matter how many times he saw him in the papers, always sent a bone-chilling shiver through his entire body.

'My, my. Look who we have here.'

Todd felt the blood drain out of his face as Lord Voldemort's snake-like eyes regarded him threateningly. Todd opened his mouth to curse softly, but nothing came out.

'Todd Ollivander. What an honour,' said Voldemort — no, wait, the Boggart, the Boggart. 'I've often considered introducing myself to the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Ollivander.' Voldemort's lips curled into a humourless smile. 'I've met your father, of course, on more than one occasion. But, to be honest, you've always captured my attention as well. Especially since you and he made the curious decision to make that Unbreakable Vow.' Voldemort's eyes glinted maliciously.

The Boggart-Voldemort was slowly walking towards Todd, and he was slowly backing against the wall. Fuck. Todd never could figure out a way to make You-Know-Who look comical. A lot of people couldn't. Boggarts, on the whole, were rather difficult to deal with these days.

'An Unbreakable Vow. How… intriguing,' the Boggart-Voldemort continued softly. 'How curiously… _self-assured_ of you. I don't know why you would stake your life on something as inconsequential as continuing to sell wands to Mudbloods. But… ' the Boggart continued, and Todd's eyes widened in confusion as he saw that it was holding what, at least, appeared to be a wand, '... I can see why you thought I wouldn't dare kill you.'

 _Not real,_ Todd reminded himself shakily.

'Your blood _is_ sacred,' the Boggart-Voldemort conceded, gesturing with its wand. 'I daresay I know more about your family history than you do, Todd Ollivander. I've traced it, all the way back to 382 B.C., through Greece and Rome, into Wizarding Britain and Diagon Alley. You have some truly ingenious ancestors. Their work was unquestionably revolutionary. You've also had quite a few idiots. I used to think your father was one of the former, until recently. Until this Unbreakable Vow.

'It is fitting, I think, for Lord Voldemort to end the Ollivander line,' the Boggart said softly. 'The end of an era, the end of an ancient line. The end of a filthy, magic-sullying tradition of giving wands to those most undeserving.'

'Todd!' Simon shouted, his voice strained as he stood on the other end of the room. _'For fuck's sake, tell me what to do!'_

Todd, who had forgotten Simon was even there, finally jerked out of his stupor and raised his wand in a sharp flash. _'Riddik_ —'

' _Expelliarmus!_ ' the Boggart-Voldemort said quickly. To Todd's shock, his wand flew up and into a corner near Simon. Todd hadn't expected the Boggart to perform any sort of magic; he hadn't been prepared for it. But, when he thought about it, it made sense. This is what most terrified him: to be disarmed in the face of Lord Voldemort.

'Did you and your father really think that you could sell wands to Mudbloods without consequence?'

Todd moved to go around the Boggart, but he blocked Todd's way.

'Simon, can you throw me my wand?' Todd said, trying to force his voice into a casual tone. 'He's not going to let me pass.'

'How arrogant the Ollivanders have been,' the figure hissed, suddenly shifting to a far more menacing demeanour, 'to have decided centuries ago to allow Muggles to wield wands, and to think that no one would ever challenge them.'

'Simon! _My wand, please!'_

'I — I'm sorry, I dunno where it fell,' Simon said, scrambling frantically in the corner of Maggie's room. 'I can't find it '

'The wizarding world has suffered greatly for this decision. Finally, I've made your father pay for his sins, and for the sins of his ancestors. First, with pain, then with death.'

'It's got to be over there somewhere. Just look for it. Quickly, please.'

'Your father is dead. Jack Coakley is dead. John Watts is dead. Hayeoun Kim is dead. Everyone who has dared to place wands in the hands of inferior beings has been dealt swift justice. Well, not swift,' he said quietly, considering this. 'No, perhaps not swift in all cases. While efficient, sometimes the Killing Curse is a bit too… _painless_ , for my liking. I even killed that little Mudblood bitch who you dared teach wandlore secrets. She put up quite a fight, but of course, I thankfully ended her disgusting life as well. I hope that doesn't trouble you too much,' the figure said, a mirthless smile spreading slowly over its face. 'From what I understand, you were quite fond of her.'

'SIMON!' Todd barked sharply. 'MY WAND!'

'Found it, found it! Should I just…?'

'And now, finally, I've come for you, Todd Ollivander.'

'Just toss it to me, yes!'

Simon, still quite pale, threw the wand toward Todd. An idea had occurred to him as the Boggart-Voldemort had been delivering this speech. Todd wasn't sure, but he thought it was possible that this idea would be far more effective than the usual ways he tried to get rid of Boggarts when they turned into Lord Voldemorts. Just as Todd caught the wand that Simon had tossed his way, the Boggart-Voldemort raised its wand and began to say ' _Avada_ —'

 _'Riddikulus!'_ Todd shouted, and the Boggart-Voldemort was suddenly shoved backward into the chair at Maggie's desk. Todd had managed to conjure a hazy ghost of Professor Burbage, who began to lecture Lord Voldemort.

'As I was saying,' Burbage said to Voldemort in her typical over-enthusiastic and slightly pedantic manner, 'I managed to test the magical abilities a control group of over twelve thousand different people all over the world, of all different ages and blood mixtures and ethnicities, and the data's conclusion was indisputable — the blood makeup of a witch or wizard is inconsequential to the strength of the spells that she or he performs. In fact, natural magical strength or weakness is a bit of a myth entirely, and that's because _the magical gene is a binary trait_ — you either have it, or you don't. There is no "strong" or "weak" wizard, at least not in terms of natural, untrained magical ability. Witches and wizards are far more likely to excel in their magic when they study, when they experiment, when they try new things, when they work hard, when they persevere to learn a spell or a potion until they've mastered it. In fact, witches and wizards who have been taught that they're blessed with inherent talent are easily discouraged when they struggle with advanced forms of transfiguration or other subjects that require a rigorous determination and work ethic —'

Todd began to laugh with relief as Voldemort regarded Burbage from the chair with a mixture of bewilderment and horror, and Simon yelped as the Boggart suddenly exploded into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke.

Todd, weak in the knees, collapsed into a sitting position on Maggie's bed. He was still trembling a bit, but even so, he grinned over at Simon, who looked quite pale.

'Right then,' Todd weakly. 'Anything else I can help you cross off your to-do list?'

'Just drinking meself into oblivion after that display,' said Simon, who was also shaking. He put his hands on his knees, blowing out a single, shaky breath. 'Fancy a beer, mate? Or seven?'

* * *

Simon handed Todd a can from the fridge, and Todd hesitated before taking it. He could really use a drink right now, but he'd never really got the hang of these Muggle cans. He didn't really understand how to open them, and he knew from experience if he tapped one with his wand it would generally explode — something to do with the pressure inside it. And even if he did manage to get one open, when he drank from it, he'd often dribble a lot of beer down his front like an idiot.

So Todd just held the unopened can awkwardly while Simon considered his own can of beer for a second, before setting it aside and picking up some sort of rolled cigarette. He used a small, metal device to light it with hands that were still shaking, just slightly.

'So that was 'im then, was it?' Simon said tightly, leaning against the window as he held the smoke in his lungs before blowing it outside. 'That man who appeared in front of you. That's the man behind this 'ole war in your world?'

'Yeah,' Todd said grimly. 'That was You-Know-Who. That was a particularly nasty Boggart. Coming at you, grabbing you like that. Taunting me. I'm not sure what would've happened if he'd actually shot the Killing Curse at me. I wasn't keen on finding out.'

Simon gave a few light coughs before he fell silent, thinking. 'He referenced Maggie, didn't 'e?' Simon said softly. 'Said 'e'd killed her?'

'None of that was true,' Todd said swiftly. 'All those people he rattled off, he hasn't killed any of them.'

'But you're afraid 'e will.'

Todd looked toward the window as an ambulance siren rang through the street, its lights briefly illuminating the Gibsons' kitchen. He stared out at the world for a while, as the noise subsided. 'Yes,' he said hoarsely. 'I am.'

Simon nodded, the smoke curling from the spliff in his hand. He sighed. 'I should've said no,' he said quietly, smiling sadly. 'No, you can't buy a cauldron and go to this strange little school where they teach you how to fly on a broomstick. Seemed like a bad idea even before I knew there was some sort o' murderous dictator trying to take over the world.'

Todd didn't know what to say to this. His mouth twitched open to share some words of hope and encouragement, but every sort of platitude he could share sounded so useless in his head.

'Anyway, that's a proper fellow to be afraid of, innit?' Simon continued. 'Meanwhile, I can't even see me old man without shaking in me boots.'

'That was your _dad?'_ Todd said, taken aback. 'I assumed he was some mad bloke from the neighbourhood, or — or a really nasty boss of yours, or something.'

'Nah.' He took another drag. 'Just dear ol' dad. I ent seen 'im, for — hell — fifteen years at least. Everyfing you said, about it just being an illusion an' all, it all flew outta me 'ead the minute I saw 'im. Felt like I was a scrawny kid again, and 'e was gonna beat me senseless. Just like the good old days.'

'So that was Maggie's dad too.'

'Er… yeah. She barely knows 'im, though.'

Todd fiddled nervously with the can in his hands. 'Where is he now?'

Simon snorted and shrugged. 'Fuck if I know. Somewhere here in London. Maggie tracked 'im down a few years ago, but I didn't go wiv 'er. In fact, I told her _over_ and _over_ again _not_ to find 'im,' he said darkly. 'But she was _obsessed._ Couldn't talk 'er out of it.

'Of course I was right. She came back in tears,' Simon said with a sigh, frowning guiltily. 'Should've gone wiv 'er. Still can't believe I let her go alone.'

'What happened?'

'He was just 'imself. An 'eartless bastard. Didn't care she'd come to see 'im, laughed in 'er face. Fought all her questions were bollocks. I _told_ her he weren't a wizard. There was no way. But she wanted to know 'oo 'is parents were, 'oo our _mum's_ parents were. And when Maggie wants to know somefhing, she sort of, well, bangs on a bit,' he said with a sad chuckle. 'It was probably 'ard for Dad to get rid of 'er, I fink 'e just slammed the door in 'er face eventually.'

Simon paused, staring out the open window. 'No offence, mate, but I fink when a tiny little wizard man comes to a little girl's 'ome and tells her she's magic, it sort of messes with 'er 'ead. It's not that much of a leap to start fhinking you could also be a… I dunno… a long-lost princess, or somefhing, innit? Jesus, mate,' Simon said with a start as he looked back at Todd. 'It's not such a wretched tale of woe, there's no need to look quite so miserable.'

'It's not her fault that she wants to find out if she's a secret heiress,' Todd said, exasperated and pained. 'It's because everyone bloody tells her she is! See,' he said with a sigh, 'we have this, this statue in our common room, of the original founder of our House, and Maggie bears a _vague_ resemblance to her. She also looks a bit like our House ghost, too.'

'House... ghost,' Simon repeated back, with the look of someone who had become accustomed to being hit with new, insane information on a regular basis.

'Believe it or not, the statue's the weirder thing when it comes to Hogwarts Houses,' Todd said with a dismissive wave. 'Mix in these rumors with the fact that, over the past 10 years, blood status has become much more important than it has been for ages. It's enough to force anyone to dig into their ancestry. Even the Malkins... Well, you don't know who they are, but the point is, Maggie's certainly not alone. I dunno, I'm not saying it's not possible. Rowena Ravenclaw lived about a thousand years ago, so for all we know, the both of you could be related to her. But there's no reason for it to matter in the way that so many people _think_ that it matters.'

A smile was playing on Simon's lips, and his shoulders were beginning to shake in silent laughter. Todd reddened slightly as he realised it was because Simon was eyeing the unopened can in Todd's hands, which were now somewhat drenched in condensation.

'If you didn't want to drink it, mate, you could've just said so.' Simon was giggling lightly, and a suspicion of Todd's about that cigarette was beginning to be confirmed.

'No, trust me, actually I — I really want to,' Todd stammered, feeling foolish. 'I, erm, I just, I just don't know how to work this tab… thingy… '

'You're a very interesting specimen, Todd Ollivander,' Simon said, good-naturedly taking the beer can from Todd and opening it with a satisfying _tishhhh._ To Todd's relief, Simon also grabbed a glass out of the cupboard for it. 'Whenever I offer a can of beer to ze German, 'e just laughs 'is 'ead off, says "a drink in a metal canister" is the most ridiculous thing 'e's ever seen. But, when it comes to you, not only are you afraid to admit that you don't know what you're doing, but you 'ave the good sense to be ashamed about it! Do you know 'ow rare that is? The way you act around me, it's the same way that Maggie acted for years around the people in your world — so careful, so worried about looking stupid. Wizards never worry about looking stupid! They make me feel stupid for assuming _they_ ought to know simple stuff!'

'Who is _ze German?'_ Todd said, grinning at this suddenly very philosophical Simon Gibson and basking in this compliment of his. 'Is that… Robbie Ellerby?'

'Ja. Ze German,' Simon said, giggling again, and his laughter was contagious. Todd wanted to confide in Simon and launch into a rant about how the Ellerby and Spudmore Broomstick Company likely operated in Germany for tax purposes, but for once in his life, Todd kept his nerdiness in check. There was something else he wanted to ask Simon, anyway.

Todd pointed at the cigarette in Simon's hand. 'Mate, is that… ganja? It is, right? I've always wanted to try that.'

Simon eyed Todd warily, but he was still smiling. After considering Todd for a moment, he handed the cigarette off with a sigh. 'Alright. Just do me a favour. Don't tell Maggie about this.'


	28. The Vine Wood Wand, Pt 1

Mr Ollivander had really outdone himself with the extension charms this year, Sana thought to herself as she surveyed the typically spartan flat that was now bursting and bustling with people. The flat above the wand shop had been injected with so much Christmas cheer that it was nearly unrecognisable.

Tinsel and baubles and even mistletoe were everywhere, and Sana was certain the only time she ever heard music playing up here was once a year, during the Ollivanders' Christmas party.

Nate, carrying two glasses of mead, deftly sidestepped Mr and Mrs Watts' two small kids, who were giggling and shrieking as they raced by the legs of the adults in the room.

'Here's my proposal,' he said, handing her a glass. 'We take a drink every time Coakley says "away ye goo".'

'Do you want me to die of alcohol poisoning?' Sana responded in alarm. Nate grinned and slipped his free hand around her back, and Sana leaned into him, sighing happily. 'Have you seen Maggie yet?'

'No.' Nate shrugged, looking around. 'Maybe she's not coming.'

'Oh, that would be such a shame,' Sana said. 'I was really looking forward to seeing her.'

'Come to think of it,' Nate said, 'we seem to be missing Todd as well. Think the two of them snuck off somewhere together?'

Sana snorted as Nate laughed into his glass of mead at his own joke. 'Todd wishes. No, I saw him sneak down the staircase ages ago. He looks like he's going to be sick.'

'Gone to meditate?' Nate said, making fun of Todd's tendency to lock himself away somewhere in the moments before he was expected to perform a major apprentice task.

'Gone to have a panic attack, more like. I don't blame him. Asked to make a wand at a party, in front of all these people? What was Mr Ollivander thinking?'

'He was thinking he'd show off his golden child, as per usual.'

'More like make things twice as hard for him,' Sana said, looking towards the staircase. 'I think I'll go check on him.'

'Sure. I'll go with you.'

'No you won't. Stay here. I'll go chat with him.'

'What! Why?'

'Because I want to make him feel better, that's why. You'll just take the piss.'

Nate conceded this with a grin and a shrug. 'All right, fine. Suit yourself. Brimer! Fancy a drinking game?' he said, walking toward Kurt.

Sana made her way down the spiral staircase, clutching her drink in one hand and slightly raising her dress robes with the other as she descended.

No search was required, and she was very glad that she hadn't invited Nate to come with her.

Todd Ollivander had ensconced himself inside what Will had jokingly coined 'the panic room' and what Nate called 'the outhouse'. It was somewhat invisible, though there was plenty of shimmering — not to mention a faint blue light — to give it away. Sana couldn't see Todd inside the 4-foot-wide, 7-foot-tall shields, but she knew he was in there. No one else utilised such a stupid technique to achieve focus while in the workshop.

She knew from past experience that knocking worked. Trying not to snigger, she rapped a knuckle lazily against one of the the invisible walls that Todd had placed around himself. After a moment, she heard some movement inside, and Todd — looking incredibly irritated to have been disturbed — pushed open one of the shields as if it were a door.

'Can I help you?'

'This is a fire hazard, Todd,' Sana said mildly.

'It's clearly not,' he snapped. 'If you're able to interrupt me because you're bored, I think you'd pop by to let me know if the shop were on fire.'

'Eh.' She shrugged. 'It depends. So, what's the point of this, exactly?' she said, gesturing vaguely to the shields. 'What are you even working on at this point?'

'The point is to focus, to get in the right mindset, without being interrupted,' Todd said, frowning. His hair was on end as if he'd been running his hands through it all day, and he did look quite pale. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

'But you're ready,' she said, peering around him to look at the small workshop table around which Todd had erected his tiny makeshift study. Atop the table sat the vine-wood wand half that he'd been working on for months, the preserved dragon heartstring he'd procured, a small knife, and Todd's own wand. 'You've got everything you need. Come upstairs and have a drink until you have to recite the wand-forging incantation.'

'No.' He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking stressed. 'I need to be completely focused for this.'

'Have you seen Maggie? It's sort of weird that she didn't come, isn't it? You and your dad did send her an invitation, didn't you?'

'I'm glad you're so understanding about my need to not be distracted right now,' Todd said wearily.

'I hope nothing's wrong... She wrote to me recently, and everything seemed fine. She told me she'd be back in London for the Christmas holidays.'

Todd frowned. 'You got a letter from her recently?'

'Yeah, I like to check in on her occasionally. Why, what's the problem?'

'Nothing.' Todd seemed annoyed at himself for asking. He returned to the desk and placed the palms of his hands flat against the table, still standing as he looked down at the objects before him as if he were trying to burn them into his memory. 'I don't know why Maggie's not here,' he said shortly. 'We did send her an invitation. Now, please, let me try to clear my mind. Shut the shields behind me before you leave.'

Sana sighed, resigned. 'All right, weirdo. See you on the other side.' She gingerly moved the shield back into place, and Todd — his back to her — disappeared again behind the shimmering walls. She took a sip of her drink and made her way back upstairs.

The fact that Nate was getting along with Will Kershner was a sign that both men were more than a little pissed. Sana heard Coakely loudly make the exclamation in question across the room, and Nate and Will giggled at each other before they took eager swigs.

'I'm going to fetch Maggie,' Sana announced to the two of them.

'What?' Nate said, looking baffled.

'Really?' Will said before hiccuping lightly.

'I've been so looking forward to having another witch on the team. Maggie's fun, and I want her to be here. Why wouldn't she show up? I don't understand it.'

'Yeah!' Will said, suddenly looking comically affronted. 'We're fun!'

'Please make sure my mead's still here when I get back,' Sana said, smiling as she handed her drink off to Nate.

'No promises,' her husband said happily, raising the glass to Sana. She gave him a look before turning on the spot.

* * *

Simon was coughing so loudly that it sounded as if he were trying to expel a vital organ of some sort, and the hacking noises drowned out the soul music that was playing in the Gibsons' flat.

'Are you sure you don't want me to make you some soup?' Maggie called, concerned, from the sofa.

She heard Simon hawk something up and spit into the kitchen sink. 'No,' he croaked. 'I just wanna get to sleep.'

'I still can't believe you still went into work today,' she scolded, settling back into her cosy position under a blanket on the sofa, returning to her paperback copy of _Howard's End_.

'It weren't this bad till later today,' Simon muttered from the kitchen. 'Fought I'd be fine.'

'The garage will be closed tomorrow for Christmas Eve, right?' she said, grumbling on his behalf.

'Yeah, closed the rest of the week. It'll be our best Christmas yet, Maggie,' Simon joked, his short laugh setting off another coughing fit.

'All right, Tiny Tim, time for you to get some sleep,' Maggie said wryly, pulling off the blanket with the intention of coaxing Simon out of the kitchen and into bed, before someone Apparated in a whirl of robes directly into the living room, and Maggie shrieked.

'Sorry! Sorry Maggie!' Sana said hurriedly, holding up her hands apologetically as Simon raced into the living room, looking alarmed. 'I'm not familiar with your neighbourhood, the only place I could picture in my mind was your living room. So rude of me, I'm so sorry about that.'

'Sana, for fuck's sake!' Maggie said weakly, clutching her hand to her pounding heart. Her wand was already drawn in her other hand. 'You can't _do_ that!'

'I know — I know — I'm so sorry.' Sana winced, but she was grinning as well. 'I've just missed you! I was so disappointed when you weren't at the party today. I had to come and find out what in the world was keeping you.'

Simon, standing in a ratty dressing gown, gave a couple inadvertent coughs and nodded awkwardly at Sana, who looked gorgeous in her blood-red dress robes. He ran his hand through his hair, which was a bit of a mess. 'All right?' he said a little jerkily. Maggie suppressed a smile.

'Simon! How are you? It's lovely to see you again, I know things were a bit dramatic the last time I was here at your flat.'

'Afraid I don't, er, remember you, actually. Unfortunately,' he said with an awkward laugh.

'Oh.' Sana looked a bit mortified. 'Of course. Right. Oh, god, I'm so sorry. Shit. Bloody Mad-Eye Moody... he's the absolute worst...'

'What party?' Maggie asked, puzzled.

Sana frowned deeply at this. 'I _knew_ he must've forgotten to send you an invitation! It's so odd though — Mr Ollivander can be rather absent-minded about these things, but I thought that Todd would remember to invite you, of all people —'

Hazy memories came to Maggie of Todd mentioning a Christmas party to her in the same letter where he'd mentioned he'd been the victim of the Cruciatus Curse. She'd honestly forgotten about it. She hadn't received an invitation, though...

'Oh. Erm. I might've accidentally... burned... that invitation, actually...'

Sana stopped babbling and looked at Maggie quizzically. 'Burned it? What, after you read it?'

'Er... no... before I read it... Sana, I don't think I can go, I'm sorry. I'm not dressed, obviously. And, honestly, I think I'd like to avoid Todd for a while, if I can.'

Sana blinked. 'Oh. I guess... I can understand that, I s'pose... If it makes you feel better — I mean, I certainly can't promise you that he'll _ignore_ you, but if it makes you feel better, he'll be very preoccupied...'

'Why do you want to avoid Todd?' Simon asked, puzzled. Maggie crossed her arms and shrugged grumpily.

'Maggie, trust me, he'll have other things to focus on tonight,' Sana said with a smile. 'He's making his first real wand tonight — a wand that'll be sold in the shop.'

'He is?' Maggie said, taken aback. 'What, instead of going to the party?'

'It's _part_ of the party,' Sana said. 'Mr Ollivander proposed the idea a couple weeks ago, having him finish the wand at their annual Christmas party. He said it would be ceremonial. Todd's shitting himself.'

'I can imagine...' Maggie said slowly. 'Is this his vine-wood wand he's been working on for ages?'

'That's the one. Have you ever seen someone make a wand before?'

'No, I haven't.'

'It's brilliant. That alone's enough reason to come, honestly.'

Maggie chewed the inside of her mouth. 'All right...' she said, hopelessly giving in to a bit of burning curiosity. 'I guess I'll come. I only have one pair of dress robes, though...'

'One's all you need!' Sana said brightly. 'I can help you get ready in five seconds.'

* * *

Turned out Sana wasn't wrong at all when she'd said that Todd would be preoccupied. Maggie nervously kept an eye out for him, clutching a drink and smoothing her bridesmaid robes that she'd worn to Alice's wedding, but Maggie didn't even see him for the first half-hour she was there.

Finally, he'd emerged on the staircase, wearing a pair of simple black dress robes, but Todd didn't even glance her way. It was odd, actually, to have a chance to watch him without him immediately catching her eye. Maggie reddened as she realised that, typically, Todd's gaze seemed to be naturally directed in her general vicinity any time they were in a room together.

Instead, he'd made his way towards his dad, and the two of them spoke quietly for a while before Todd finally gave a curt nod and immediately returned to the workshop without a second glance at the party.

Maggie gave a sigh of relief when he disappeared and actually managed to laugh when Sana made an exaggerated face at her as she transfigured Nate's glass of wine into water when he wasn't looking.

It wasn't that Maggie expected Todd to start flirting with her. She was far more nervous about what _she_ had to do the next time he struck up a conversation with her.

Maggie's delightful conversation with Snape during her detention had solidified her decision about what kind of a relationship she'd have to have with Todd, moving forward: distant, and purely professional. She'd been kidding herself thinking that they could be friends, and it was clear to her now what everyone must think whenever they laughed and talked together.

Maggie now realised that everyone thought she got her apprenticeship because the boss's son fancied her. And, for all she knew... maybe that _had_ been the reason, she thought miserably. All she could do at this point was put a stop to any rumours that she was continuing to take advantage of it for any ladder-climbing here at Ollivander's.

So she needed to freeze Todd out. No more chats about personal stuff, no more letters (although, Todd hadn't sent her any more letters since she'd burned that single one, so maybe that wasn't an issue), no more drinking at the Malkins', no more crying in his arms. Memories of that last moment, in the context of Snape's conversation, particularly made her cringe.

In short, don't do anything that could give Todd, or anyone else, the wrong idea. Don't laugh with him, don't smile at him, and just generally keep your chats short. Was this all a bit extreme? Maybe. Was it cruel? In the short-term, perhaps. But hearing Snape's opinion of her made Maggie want to scream, and she'd do anything to try to reverse anyone else's similar opinion.

At the party tonight, the only person who could successfully coax her out of this gloom of hers was Coakley, who had been delighted to see her, so much so that he even answered every single eager question she had about the wand-forging incantation. Coakley introduced her to his wife, Betty, a sweet, plump witch who listened to her husband with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

'It'll be a sub-par wand, Maggie, mark my words,' Coakley said airily. 'You'll have tae wait a wee bit tae see how it's done properly, more than likely.'

'Oh Jack, gie the girl peace! Don't pay him any mind, hen, he prattled on all day about how he was just chuffed tae bits tae see Todd debut this new wand. I don't know why you gie the poor boy such a hard time, you said so yourself that he'll pull it off brilliantly the day.'

'Cannae have him getting a big heid, Betty. You've got tae keep the wee tadger in his place.'

'Language, Jack, for heaven's sake!'

Just as Maggie felt she were finally beginning to relax and enjoy the party, Mr Ollivander clinked a fork against his glass to get everyone's attention and direct everyone down into the workshop below for Todd's demonstration.

Nate snuck up behind Coakley and clapped a conspiratorial hand on his shoulder, pulling Watts in with him as well. 'Shall we make this a bit more interesting, gents?'

'There's nae betting on the quality of wands here, lad,' Coakley said. 'I've too much respect for wandlore to dae that.'

'Coakley's right, that's bad luck, Dobson,' Watts said. 'We're all behind Todd for this tonight.'

Nate looked disappointed, but cheered up quickly as Sana took his hand, and the tipsy, chattering crowd was in high spirits as they made their way down the staircase. They filled the workshop floor, forming a crowd in front of the two Ollivander men who were standing alongside each other near a table and chair. The slightly pink-faced, happy guests who looked on with eager interest couldn't have offered a sharper contrast to Todd Ollivander, who looked pale, tense, focused and determined. Maggie decided to stand near the back to avoid catching Todd's eye, but she needn't have bothered. Todd didn't make eye contact with anyone in the crowd, instead peering straight ahead, slightly over all their heads. Several of the wandsmiths and apprentices in the crowd gave him sympathetic looks.

'I don't think there's a single soul in this workshop who has been able to avoid a conversation with my son about his plans for this wand of his,' Mr Ollivander began, with a shadow of a smile, and any mumblings in the crowd quickly quieted. 'From the beginning, Todd has known what he has wanted it to be. What _it_ wants to be. It's a depth of knowledge that Todd has earned, over the years, through study and devotion to this craft, and with fierce determination to become an admirable wandsmith. At first, I pushed back against some of his plans for this wand, but Todd has earned my trust, and I trust his judgment. If completed successfully, this final task will mark the end of Todd's apprenticeship, and he will become a full wandsmith and begin his professional career at this shop, with me. With all of us.'

Mr Ollivander paused, his wide pale eyes shining through the gloom of the workshop as they roved piercingly over the people in the crowd.

'Many of you, though not all of you, know that I consider the long-held tradition that the wandshop be a family business to be old-fashioned, irrelevant and potentially harmful to the craft. We are the premiere makers of fine wands for Britain's witches and wizards, and there is no reason that role ought to be limited to those who bear the Ollivander name. I was forced into this role I hold now, and I had no intention of forcing Todd into the same line of work. He is here today, not because of the blood that runs through his veins but because of his own, passionate, insistent desire to be a wandsmith. And I expect him to prove himself worthy of the role today.'

Maggie, sensing the end of the moving speech, began to clap as Mr Ollivander finished speaking, though she quickly stopped as she realised with embarrassment that she was the only one. A few people grinned at her. For the first time, Todd looked at her, startled, but then quickly looked away. His father's speech did not appear to have comforted him. If anything, he looked paler now.

'Todd, would you like to share a few words?'

Todd opened his mouth to speak, but only a short, soft strangled noise came out. He swallowed, cleared his throat and tried again. 'I'd just like to finally make this wand.'

'Of course,' his dad conceded, looking just slightly amused. 'Please. You may begin.' Mr Ollivander didn't move, and Todd stared at him.

'Are you just going to... stand... there?'

'Yes,' Mr Ollivander said simply.

Todd nodded several times, looking tense, and finally pulled out a chair at the table before him and sat down. He stared at everything at the table, took a deep breath, and for the first time, seemed to relax somewhat. He picked up the wand half. It was the full length of a wand, but was not cylindrical or smooth all the way around. Instead, it had a sort of trench carved through it.

He pointed his wand at the small jar containing what looked like a sort of thin, bloody, fleshy string. Maggie deduced that it had to be a dragon heartstring, because it obviously wasn't a feather or a hair. The jar popped open, and Todd carefully levitated the heartstring out of the jar and into the wand half. He appeared to be doing some sort of non-verbal spellcasting to twist the heartstring into just the position he wanted within the wand. As he magically twisted it, it grew tighter and thinner, and Maggie could see there was still ample room within the wand's small trench. She caught her breath in anticipation for what she knew came next.

Not taking his eyes off the wand, he picked up his own wand, and pointed it at the trench. In a firm and resonant voice, he began to chant a long, dizzying, disorienting string of what sounded like Greek. Maggie felt a sudden pressure in her ears, and the temperature in the room rose sharply. She could even feel her hair frizzing around her face.

Maggie balked at the thought of having to memorize what seemed like an endless incantation. For the first several minutes, nothing happened as Todd spoke, but he kept a steady pace of words and breaths. Finally, a shimmering, clear substance that seemed to have the consistency of melted glass oozed out of his wand. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he was trembling slightly, his pale face glistening with sweat.

Still chanting, he slowly put the wand half down on the table and picked up a small knife. He made a shallow incision on his arm and waited for the cut to bleed, then turned his arm upside down so that a couple drops of blood fell onto the clear substance, which began to bubble. The substance began to take on a colour — the faintest, lightest shade of lilac. He was still speaking, but he was leaning his face closer to the wand now. His steady beats of speaking and breathing now seemed more important, and he now incorporated a couple long, slow exhales into the rhythm, whistling out a thin stream of air onto the wand, and the substance began to spin inside the wand half and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple.

He halted, gasping slightly for air, and for a second Maggie thought that Todd had stumbled, but no. He was done reciting the incantation. Todd cast a couple of spells at the heartstring to manipulate it further. ' _Tornus… Comprimere… Tendere...'_

Maggie wasn't accustomed to seeing Todd recite spells audibly. The wand-forging incantation must have weakened him considerably. He paused, picking the wand up and examining it closely. He surveyed it end to end, weighing it carefully in his palm. He took a deep, nervous breath, pointed his wand at it again and said _'Germinare.'_ The wand wood began to grow and swallow the heartstring and the purple substance inside it so that it was no longer a half of a wand but a full, complete one.

Todd sat with the wand in his open palm, staring at it and saying nothing. Enough time passed that Maggie began to look quizzically at the people standing next to her.

'Is he performing wandless magic right now?' she whispered to Sana.

'Er... nope,' Sana said, looking amused.

Finally, Coakley broke the silence.

'If you're pausing for dramatic effect, lad, I think that's good enough.'

Todd could barely conceal the apprehension on his face. With an expression of dread, he grasped the wand, and pointed it into the air. _'Avis,'_ he said hoarsely.

A tremendous flock of two dozen bright yellow canaries burst from the tip. The birds fluttered and tweeted, their wings rustling frantically as they circled rapidly round the crowd, which had burst into raucous applause, Maggie one of the most enthusiastic among them. Watts stuck his fingers into his mouth, and his whistle mingled with the chirps from the birds, who seemed to be flustered as they circled the whooping and hollering crowd.

Todd turned in his chair and gave them all a weary grin. Watts extended his hand, and Todd rose to shake it, before promptly losing consciousness, and passing out onto the workshop floor.

* * *

It didn't take long to revive Todd. Still, the wand creation enchantment had thoroughly drained his energy, and a few members of the crew had to help him up the stairs as everyone returned to the flat while Mr Ollivander stayed on the workshop floor to conduct a few last tests on Todd's new wand.

Despite his weariness, Todd was fully the guest of honour now, and his happiness shined through on his tired face. Every single person at the party was congratulating him, clapping him on the back and wanting to tell him their thoughts, and Maggie could easily blend into the background. She was startled, therefore, as Will walked away from his conversation with her to get another plate of the Iqbals' curry, when Todd's voice was suddenly in her ear.

'Sana tells me Simon's ill,' Todd said, less than an inch from her cheek. 'I thought you should know, Muggles can drink Pepperup Potion.'

Maggie was so startled by his sudden appearance as well as this information that she didn't pull away as she turned toward him, so close that she could see that there were some flecks of blue in his silvery eyes. 'Isn't — isn't that illegal?'

Todd shrugged. He didn't straighten up despite having her attention. 'Only if you get caught, and you won't get caught. Professor Burbage told me that detail about Pepperup Potion ages ago, when she complained about how wizards could easily introduce certain elements and chemicals into the Muggle sciences without revealing magic at all, but wizards can't be arsed. I wouldn't trust anyone else to be sure of Muggle biology as it relates to potions, but, trust me, Charity Burbage knows her stuff. She's ten times the Muggle Studies professor Hogwarts used to employ. Did you know that that professor taught sections on _"eckeltricity"?'_ Todd said, looking amused. 'Anyway. Just thought I'd share. So... er... what, did you. You know. Think? Of my —'

Maggie wasn't sure she could talk about the magic she'd just seen him perform with anything but overwhelmed emotion and enthusiasm, and luckily, she didn't have to worry about tempering that enthusiasm, because Betty Coakley swooped in like a mother hen, taking Todd's face in her hands.

'Oh Todd, well done today, well done!'

'Oh, thanks Mrs Coakley,' Todd said, looking embarrassed but pleased.

'If Elsie Ollivander were still with us, she'd tell you that you're becoming more and more like your father every day. It would be a compliment, and — a warning,' she said, her eyes twinkling.

Todd chuckled and responded with something that Maggie didn't catch as she scuttled away to join the other apprentices and Nate, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Todd looked a bit surprised to see her leave as he continued to talk with Coakley's wife.

Maggie made her way across the massive hall that the Ollivanders' living room had temporarily become. For the first time, she was in the flat itself to hear the befuddling, mysterious chimes of their grandfather clock up here.

It had been days, when she'd hear it in the floors below, before she realised that the number of chimes didn't correspond to the hour (other than the fact that they did always sound on the hour, every hour). It began, as it always did, by playing a simple tune that Maggie didn't recognise (different than the Westminster Quarters that typically proceeded the chiming of the hours).

During the Christmas party today, she made sure to count the chimes. The pattern and sounds were always a bit different each time. This time, she heard two deep, slow _bong... bong..._ then three rapid, high-pitched _ding... ding... ding_ of descending notes before it returned to deeper noises again, but this time more rapid and arrhythmic: _bongbongbong... bong... bongbong..._ Then she heard a whir, a click and a whizz, before the top of the clock finally emitted several soft puffs of purple smoke into the air.

And just as Maggie thought it had finished, there was one final _Bong,_ for good measure.

'Is that just whimsical,' Maggie said to Will, Sana and Nate, jerking her thumb to the tall, thin clock in the flat that nearly stretched to the ceiling, 'or is there a purpose to those noises?'

'Hm.' Will frowned and looked at Nate, who shrugged. 'They all mean something... but I can never remember, to be honest.'

'Todd would know,' Sana said.

'Todd!' Will shouted across the room. 'Get over here, mate, Maggie has a question for you!'

'Oh, no no — never mind —'

Todd, smiling and nodding absentmindedly at something Mrs Coakley was saying as he nursed a glass of wine, looked up. Maggie saw Mrs Coakley finish up what she was saying and gesture good-naturedly for Todd to join the apprentices. Maggie'd known that avoiding Todd would be a bit impossible at this event, but the whole situation was giving her a bit of a panic attack. She could ignore Todd, certainly, but for him to get the message to leave her alone, she'd have to be somewhat cold towards him. But seeing him in person again, watching him do brilliant magic, seeing him so content and happy after he'd looked so stressed and terrified... all she wanted to do was laugh and drink with him and congratulate him and tell him how wonderful it was to see him.

Maggie swallowed. For the first time, it unnervingly occurred to her that Todd might not be the only one she wanted to keep from getting confused.

Shit. Why hadn't she brought Robbie to the party? Maggie reassured herself that it was just that she'd had no advance notice. Sana had just shown up at her flat, and everything had happened so fast...

Maggie started when she realised Todd was suddenly standing across from her and was squinting as he listened to Will, who was babbling and gesturing drunkenly to the clock. Todd nodded and shot a couple amused glances at Maggie. He opened his mouth a couple of times to answer, each time having to close it again as Will continued to explain in a rambling fashion that he couldn't remember the significance of the noises and ticks and puffs of smoke and it's all very mysterious and kooky, and don't historic wizarding families have the weirdest, most fascinating antiques?

'It's not nearly as interesting as Will makes it out to be,' Todd finally began. 'It just... it takes the temperature, both literally and metaphorically. That's why it's so bonkers today.'

He smiled back at Maggie, not elaborating. _It takes the temperature both literally and metaphorically?_ What the hell did that mean? She narrowed her eyes at him. Did Todd really think that was a sufficient answer? Or did he just like it when she asked him follow-up questions?

Luckily, it was Sana who took the bait. 'OK well that's cryptic nonsense. What in the name of Merlin does that mean?'

'Well, the literal temperature is fairly straightforward. That's what the first round of gongs mean. There were two, right?' Todd yawned widely, making a lazy attempt to cover his mouth with the hand that held his wine glass. He looked a bit spent after creating the wand, but it was a happy, satisfied sort of exhausted. 'Yeah, so that puts the outdoor temperature somewhere just below zero, as expected. The bells that come after tell you whether the temperature's going up or down, so since the notes are descending that means it's going to get colder tonight. Then, the gongs after that... well, those are really tricky to read. You have to know the combinations, and I only know a fraction of them by heart. But they essentially tell you the mood of the people in the flat.'

Will blinked. 'What? Their mood? You mean their emotions?'

'Yeah.' Todd grinned. 'I'll be honest, I'm not always a fan. It can be kind of jarring to become so suddenly self-aware. Sort of an invasion of privacy, also. It's most closely tied to the emotions of the people who live here, so what you're hearing now is mostly me, since my dad's downstairs.'

'What a weird thing for a clock to do...' Sana said, baffled. 'So, what does that pattern mean now? I think I heard three, then one, then two? What are you feeling right now, according to this mental little timepiece?'

Todd smiled and shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. Maggie saw some colour creep into his cheeks. 'It's not a pattern I hear a lot, honestly. If I'm not mistaken, it's just... well, it's just... happy.'

'Oh, Todd.' In a sudden blur of scarlet robes, Sana had pulled Todd into a swift hug, and he stumbled back.

'Whoa, steady on, Sana.' He shot Maggie a bemused smile and patted Sana awkwardly on the back.

Nate snorted and didn't look bothered, though he did ask, 'Sana, should I be jealous?'

'He's just grown up so much,' she choked out, wiping away a tear as she pulled away. 'You're like a little brother to all of us, Todd.'

'He acted like one, too,' Nate said wryly to Maggie. 'When I was an apprentice, and Todd was this puny little git, he used to constantly correct me if I got something wrong. "Actually, Nate,"' he said, imitating a preteen boy with a cracking voice and pushing an imaginary pair of glasses up his nose, '"it's Antipodean Opaleye dragon heartstrings that are the most pliable, not the Norwegian Ridgeback's."'

'Oh for Merlin's sake, Dobson, will you ever update that bloody impression of me?' Todd said, but he was laughing with the others as well.

'You think Maggie thinks of Todd as a brother? Or something more?' Will said with a wink at her. Maggie blinked, taken aback. She felt the heat rise in her face. The implication was so rude, and so brash, but Sana and Nate were so tipsy that they didn't have much of a reaction and only giggled slightly, not taking issue with this joke that Maggie, who had a boyfriend, might be destined for someone else.

She chanced a glance at Todd, wondering if he'd missed it, but of course he hadn't. He was taking a few preoccupied swigs from his drink, but he had reddened considerably, and it was clear from the way he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye that he was very interested in her reaction to this question.

'I do think that I think of Todd as something of a brother, just like all of you do,' she said shortly, making stony eye contact with all of them. Her sudden annoyance had emboldened her desire to set the record straight. 'I think he's sort of like another big brother to me. Is that a problem?' she said, directing the question at Todd.

'No,' he said, looking uncomfortable and nervous, his flush deepening. 'That's fine. That's great.' The others in the group shifted awkwardly as well.

Maggie wasn't sure exactly how to fill the silence at this point. She was planning to coldly excuse herself and talk to a different group of people for the rest of the night, when everyone in the room was suddenly distracted by the appearance of Mr Ollivander, who had appeared at the top of the spiral staircase, carrying Todd's new wand.

'What's the verdict, sir? All good?' Watts said, loudly and congenially.

Mr Ollivander gave a vague smile that Watts took to be the confirmation he was looking for, and he turned to the crowd.

'Before we head downstairs to place Todd's wand on the shelves,' Watts said jovially, 'I'd like to make a toast. I overheard all you apprentices earlier talking about what Todd was like when he was younger, and I think we can all agree, that even now, Todd's still working to grow out of his insufferable know-it-all phase.'

Everyone laughed. Todd, who seemed a bit thrown off by the interaction with Maggie, gave an uncertain smile.

'I think, however, that despite all this, most of us consider ourselves lucky to have gotten to know Todd Ollivander and to watch him grow up. He can be terse and he can be high-strung at times. But he can be funny, and he can be kind-hearted. He can be interesting to talk to, can be helpful as you attempt to work out a problem. His brilliance can startle you sometimes, as evidenced by today. I've watched Todd grow and mature as a wizard over these past nineteen years of his life, and I have to say that he has impressed me time and time again with his natural talent as well as his fierce work ethic to master every single aspect of wandlore. But even more importantly, I've watched him grow into a man of conviction, who is interested in what role Ollivander's can play in this war — not only how we can protect this institution, but also how this institution can protect others in the wizarding world.'

Todd's smile was no longer uncertain, even though he looked quite embarrassed. 'Thanks mate,' he muttered, sounding touched.

'I am looking forward to working alongside Todd as a fellow wandsmith, and I have no doubt that he will one day run this shop with wisdom, with kindness, and with bravery, and I'm sure this wand of his that we'll be placing on the shelves downstairs today will be the first of many that —'

Mr Ollivander cleared his throat, and Maggie suddenly noticed just how uncomfortable he looked. 'Let's not get ahead of... I never actually said...' He faltered, looking around the room, before he appeared to change his mind. 'Well, then. Indeed. Let's raise a glass to Todd, shall we?'

Though everyone raised their glasses, the atmosphere in the room changed as people looked around nervously. Todd looked suddenly tenser than he'd been before he'd performed his incantation.

'What do you mean, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves"?' Todd croaked. A lot of the blood had drained out of his face.

Mr Ollivander held up a placating hand. 'Nothing, nothing. We'll discuss it afterward, in a more private setting.'

'Is something wrong with the wand?'

'Todd, for heaven's sake,' Mr Ollivander said, exasperated, 'we're in the midst of toasting you right now. I'd also like to join John in his kind praise of my son, it is well-deserved.' John Watts looked deeply nervous and slightly horrified, as if realising that he'd jumped the gun.

'But — I don't understand — the charm, the birds — I was able to —' Todd stammered, looking slightly manic.

'Everyone, let's just — to Todd,' Mr Ollivander said loudly, raising his glass higher.

'To Todd,' the guests said automatically, raising their glasses and drinking, though it was an extremely halting response. Watts now looked like he very much wanted to crawl into a corner and die, though of course that was nothing to how Todd seemed to be dealing with this new development.

Mr Ollivander made his way over to his son while Todd stood stalk-still and Sana, Nate, Will and Maggie all exchanged tense, apprehensive looks. Maggie, thinking of her last words to Todd, wondered that if Watts and Todd were about to find respective corners to go die in, she might also join them.

'What's wrong with it?' Todd repeated as soon as his dad was close enough to speak to.

Mr Ollivander pulled out the new vine-wood wand, looking slightly helpless as he fingered the wand with a single, intact vine pressed in a curl around the wand. 'It's — I'm terribly sorry, Todd. It — it doesn't work.'

'What do you mean it doesn't work?' Todd said mechanically. Maggie very much wanted to back away from this very private conversation, but she was frozen on the spot, like the other apprentices. She, like Todd, simply didn't understand. 'You saw me perform the Bird-Conjuring Charm. It clearly works.'

'It's not responding to me,' Mr Ollivander said sadly. 'It's a shame, Todd, and I don't understand it, either. But, see for yourself — _Petrificus Totalus.'_

He pointed the wand at his son, and though Todd did look quite rigid and petrified, it was clear when Todd snatched the wand out of his dad's hands that the spell hadn't taken.

 _'Reducto,'_ Todd said, pointing the wand at his wine glass. It was a bit of a reckless choice, and Maggie and the rest of the apprentices flinched, still half expecting glass to shatter in all directions. But nothing happened. Or — almost nothing. Maggie did notice a quick, sharp crack appear in the glass, but it certainly wasn't the effect that the Reductor Curse was meant to have.

Todd looked stunned. 'Did I perform the incantation incorrectly?' he said desperately. 'You must've noticed how I slipped up — got a word wrong, or — or a motion, or —'

'You seemed to perform it perfectly, as far as I can tell,' his father said, his brow creased. 'But, as you know, there's a good deal I can't observe — your focus, your state of mind…' He trailed off, as if he knew this wasn't helping. Todd just looked tired, and confused, and terribly, terribly sad.

'It's a fickle process, Todd, as you well know,' his dad said gently. He hesitated, then said quietly, 'I did tell you that a Swedish Short-Snout heartstring would better fit a wand of this exterior…'

Todd, the wand still in his hand, walked away abruptly and made his way toward his bedroom, which took a lot longer than it usually would have due to the Temporary Extension Charm. He ignored several guests' attempts to comfort him as he walked through the clusters of people, including Coakley's unusually kind movement to put a hand on his shoulder, but Todd shrugged them all off. As he walked, he absentmindedly tapped his wine glass with the vine-wood wand, and he swore under his breath when nothing happened. He produced his own wand and increased the volume of the wine significantly in his glass before he wrenched open his bedroom door and closed it behind him with a quick, sharp snap.


	29. The Vine Wood Wand, Pt 2

**A/N:** Some fairly big news: I've decided to change the title of my story from _The Ollivanders_ to _The Wandsmiths._

I'll be honest, I started kicking myself for naming it _The Ollivanders_ fairly early on once I started publishing. I talked myself out of using the name that I always intended to use because I thought it would pop a bit more among endless updating fanfictions.

For a long time I've assumed I'm stuck with _The Ollivanders_ as a title, for better or worse. But, in the end, I've decided to follow my heart. I think it's better to change it now, rather than having to answer the question of, "And... why did you name it _The Ollivanders?_ When there are only two Ollivanders in this sea of OCs? Especially when two is half the number of Ollivanders that Pottermore says there should be?"

I know this will make your alerts and searches more confusing, and I apologize. I'm trying to reduce confusion by warning you all before I change it. We'll see how the Reddit linkffnet bot handles this change, I'm not sure how that'll turn out.

Anyway. Enough rambling from me. On to the story. We'll pick up at exactly at the spot where I last left you.

* * *

Since Todd had retired to his bedroom, a distinct chill had descended on the Ollivanders' Christmas party. The flat was full of uneasy glances and hushed conversations, not to mention a very guilty-looking Mr Ollivander.

Nate reached over to Sana, grabbing her elbow gently. 'I think we ought to head back to ours, Sana love.'

'Should we try to talk to him?' Sana said, glancing at Todd's closed bedroom door. All the apprentices were looking at each other a bit helplessly.

Nate shook his head. 'You know how Todd gets. He probably just wants to be alone right now.' He summoned their two cloaks with his wand, and Will, looking torn, did the same after a pause.

'I do think,' Sana said gently, as Nate draped her cloak around her, 'he would talk to you, Maggie.'

Maggie swallowed. The worst part was, she _did_ want to check on him before leaving. But sitting next to Todd on his bed while the two of them talked privately in evening wear was exactly the sort of thing that she was trying _not_ to do these days.

'I'm not sure you know this, but it's not unheard of for the wandsmiths to make a dud every now and then. Remind him of that,' Sana said, fumbling with the clasps at her cloak. 'This was a shitty night for Todd, there's no denying that, but that's only because it had been so hyped up. He's been wanting to make this particular wand for ages, and his dad kept putting it off, and then made him craft it in front of all these people... Todd's just going to be gutted that he's going to have to keep wearing green for a bit, but we all know he'll be a wandsmith sooner rather than later...'

'Sana,' Maggie said desperately, 'it sounds like you would have a much better idea what to say than I would, I really think —'

Sana sighed. 'I'm too close to finishing my apprenticeship myself. He'll think I'm patronizing him, or... I dunno, gloating or something. Nate's right. We've been here before, we know how he is.'

'He likes you. He respects you,' Will said, patting Maggie's shoulder. 'You'll know what to say.'

'Shall we use Floo powder tonight? I'm a bit...' Nate cut himself off with a groan. 'Wait. I always forget. They've disconnected from the Floo Network here, haven't they?'

'Another security measure,' Sana said with a smile. 'I can use side-along Apparition for the both of you, don't worry.'

'Lucky you, Sana, two men on your arm tonight,' Will said cheekily, offering his own. Sana rolled her eyes as she took Nate's arm on her left, Will on her right, and the two wizards grinned as they led her down the stairs. Maggie was left on her own, protests dying on her lips as she anxiously gripped her wine glass.

Maggie sighed as they disappeared downstairs. She knew she wasn't going to attempt to say anything to Todd. It would only give him hope that there might be something between them and would only fuel the sort of hints that the apprentices seemed to think were acceptable to make. Not to mention... Maggie was feeling a bit guilty and confused and caught off guard by just how much she wanted to see him, to put a hand on his arm and tell him that everything was going to be all right, and it seemed... best to keep him at arm's length for a bit.

So instead, she made her way back to the Coakelys.

'Poor dear,' Betty Coakley said softly, looking in the direction of Todd's bedroom.

'It doesnae make sense,' Jack Coakley said, frowning. 'The boy's speech, his movements — they were bang on. And nae faulty wand would produce a flock of birds such as that... I'd like tae examine it masel', but he took it with him.'

'You ought to go knock on his door,' Maggie encouraged. 'Especially if you think Mr Ollivander's assessment was wrong —'

'And possibly affirm the assessment? No, no' the night, hen,' he said, eyeing the door sadly. 'Let's save that work for another day. However, if there's one person who could cheer him up, it might be...' Coakley trailed off as he saw Maggie looking uncomfortable. 'Well, probably for the best if we all give him some time tae himself tonight.' He cleared his throat. 'Maggie, before you leave, I've wanted tae speak tae you about work. The point being, I believe I've found some for you. The Gatherers will need some help obtaining wand wood in Merlin's Forest this summer, and it would be paying work. We'd continue our apprenticeship, of course, you'll still be dead-set on a course to becoming a wandsmith if I have anything tae say about it, which, of course I dae,' he said happily. 'Apprentices typically don't begin tae help out with this sort of work until they've been here at least the three years, but I thought, if you fancy obtaining wand wood a wee bit more than serving lunches —'

'I do!' Maggie said, quickly and enthusiastically. 'Oh Coakley, that's brilliant! Oh my god — I can't believe I'll never have to come to the wand shop smelling of fish and chips ever again!'

Jack Coakley laughed, and Maggie kept chattering with the Coakleys, guiltily distracting herself from her confusing, swirling concerns for Todd.

* * *

Still, the Ollivanders' whispered conversation had dampened the mood considerably, and the party dispersed fairly quickly. Before long, Maggie had her cloak draped around her shoulders as well and was saying goodnight with mittened hands to the wandsmiths, the Gatherers, the Beast Hunters, and all of their families.

Coakley, Haeyoun Kim and Mr Ollivander stayed in the flat, talking quietly, as the rest of the guests ambled tipsily down the spiral staircase and out into the cool air. Most of them hadn't dressed for the cold and so Apparated fairly quickly, but Maggie had bundled up, her pre-Apparition habits hard to shake.

Diagon Alley was beautiful during Christmas time. The lanterns in the street — now decorated with holly and tinsel — brought a cosy warmth to the winding, cobbled road, and Maggie saw occasional sparks of light that she realised with a start were fairies flitting through the alley. Many of the shopfronts had bright, elaborate Christmas displays, and even Ollivander's had a small, simply decorated tree in its window, with a wand in a purple cushion underneath the tree.

She was curious what the rest of Diagon Alley looked like and began a slow stroll down the road, peering at the brightly coloured ornaments hanging from the brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies' window and the red and green robes that the mannequins were donning in the window of Madam Malkin's. She saw the Malkins' cat dart out from behind a closed-up cart to attempt to catch a fairy, which whizzed away with a giggle.

The displays in the shops caused Maggie's thoughts to drift toward Christmas shopping, of how she might soon be able to afford to buy her loved ones actual, proper gifts for once, instead of the usual ideas she had to come up with — conjuring a beloved, second-hand book to read itself to you, or Coca-Cola and Muggle sweets for her wizarding friends who were enamoured with that sort of thing.

Soon enough, she would probably be able to get a flat of her own — even if she'd have to share it with a flatmate or two — and finally give Simon the freedom that she knew he sometimes... Maggie halted on the road, struck by the mildly horrifying realisation that, of all the questions she'd asked Coakley about the work gathering the right kind of wand wood, _she hadn't asked him how much it paid._

'Idiot,' she muttered angrily, clapping a hand to her forehead. Leave it to a Ravenclaw to be so excited about the fascinating nature of a job that they forgot to negotiate a bloody salary.

She remembered many of her Seventh Year peers grumbling, as they sent out job applications, that many apprenticeships merely paid a small stipend for the first year or so before offering a full salary, and Maggie rubbed her eyes in frustration as she realised that her first year of apprentice work might actually pay significantly _less_ than a waitressing job at a Muggle café, especially when you factored in the fact that the pound was stronger than the Galleon these days.

She turned around and squinted towards Ollivander's. There were still lights in the windows of the third-floor, and she might be able to still catch Coakley before he went home. She hurried back in the direction from where she'd come, slightly raising her dress robes in her hand as she ran. Despite her tights, the cold air still swirled around her calves as her boots tapped rapidly against the cobbled street, and she could see her breath appear in clouds in front of her each time she exhaled sharply. Her hair never could stay in any sort of up-do for very long, especially now that she'd been letting it grow lately, and she could feel her long curls falling out of the careful knot she'd made.

She was just about to attempt to wrench open the door to Ollivander's when a sudden figure on the roof made her skid to an abrupt halt. Her mind surged in fear as, at first, she thought it might be an attacker. But then she felt a different kind of fear as she realised it was Todd in the darkness, looking out toward London rather than Diagon Alley. Or, more accurately, looking _down,_ his fists clenched by his sides with a sense of purpose that made Maggie's heart leap into her throat.

Without even thinking about it, she Apparated from the street onto the roof, which, upon reflection, may not have been the best course of action.

 _'Gah!'_ Todd shouted as a human being unexpectedly appeared out of thin air beside him, disrupting his brooding and making him stumble to the side and lose his footing on the roof.

'Todd!' Maggie said, grabbing him tightly by the shoulders as she pulled him back but lost her footing as well, and the two of them clutched at each other in a moment of flailing panic as they attempted, ultimately successfully, to keep their feet planted firmly on the slanted shingles of the roof.

'Bloody _hell,_ Maggie! Don't _do_ that!' Todd said weakly, breathing hard as he clutched her somewhere around her waist and regained his balance.

'Sorry,' she stammered breathlessly, repeating her apology a few times. 'I thought — I thought you were about to jump off the roof!'

'So you fancied pushing me yourself?' he said indignantly.

'No! No, of course not! What are you doing up here, are you _mad?_ It's dangerous!'

'It's only _dangerous_ if someone decides to suddenly execute a sneak attack,' he grumbled, cautiously detaching himself from her. 'I come up here all the time. When I need to think.'

Indeed, Maggie noted that they were stood directly above Todd's open bedroom window, curtains blowing slightly in the wind.

'So... you weren't about to jump off the roof just now?'

'No,' he said with a raised eyebrow. Then he sighed, shoulders slumped as he lowered himself into a sitting position on the roof. 'It's not a terrible idea, mind. Not quite high enough to achieve the intended effect, though.' He laughed hollowly, hunching over with his arms on his knees as he looked out at the bright lights of London's west end, whose populace could not see the tops of Diagon Alley buildings due to Concealment Charms.

He shivered, and Maggie noticed he didn't have a cloak or any other warm clothing. He was still donning his not-particularly-insulating black dress robes, and he'd unbuttoned his collar and pulled his bow tie apart so that it hung on either side of his neck.

'Have you used a Warming Charm?' she said, taking a seat next to him.

He shrugged indifferently, shivering again.

Maggie frowned, removing a mitten from her right hand as she took out her wand.

'You really shouldn't wear mittens at all,' Todd muttered. 'Wands work best with direct hand-to-wood contact, and in these times you can never be too...' He stopped, and there was that hollow laugh again. 'You know what? What do I know? I'm certainly no wandlore expert, I made that perfectly clear tonight. Who am I to say what's best?'

Maggie took his very-cold hand and opened it, muttering _'Therme'_ as she touched the tip of her wand to the centre of his palm. Todd didn't react, continuing to look out at the city glumly. Todd had nice fingers, she thought, then shook her head, baffled. What a bizarre thought to have...

She noticed how angular his fingers were, almost rectangular the way they jutted out around each fingernail. Maggie resisted the urge to rub her thumb along each of his fingers, to puzzle over their shape. She remembered him joking that the wand she'd 'purchased' for him while they worked to train the enchanted quill was 'a bit too wispy for my masculine hands', and she smiled.

He did not react to the intimate gesture and did not thank her for the Warming Charm, simply dropping his hand once she'd performed the spell, continuing to stare out toward the theatre district.

But she wouldn't want him to react, right? She shook her head lightly again, confused with herself.

'Hey,' she said softly. 'It's going to be all right.'

'It's not,' he replied in a monotone.

'That was ridiculous, for your father to expect you to create a wand under those high-pressure conditions.'

'He's done it.'

'Well, that's not a fair comparison,' Maggie said with a scoff, shaking her head. 'He's probably been a wandsmith for forty years at least!'

'No, I mean, he did it when he was my age,' Todd muttered. 'When he was nineteen, he made his first proper wand at the shop's Christmas party. It's tradition. That's why I was expected to do this tonight. By the way, guess who that wand that my dad made later went to? Alastor Moody, who went on to become a world-renowned Auror.'

'Well...' Maggie said, with a frown and a shrug, 'so what, so you got a little nervous. You'll get there eventually, everyone —'

'So what?' he said, his voice suddenly ragged as he finally turned to look at her, and Maggie saw despair in his eyes. 'It means I'm a lesser wandsmith, that's what. It hints at a future of inferior wand quality in Britain, that's what. Decades from now, the time my dad was at the helm may come to be considered the golden age for Ollivander's, a time when wands were of their highest quality. An era that will be snuffed out once I'm in charge.'

He reached into his robes, withdrawing the vine wood wand, and angrily moved to snap it.

'Todd, stop!' Maggie said, horrified, snatching it out of his hands before he could do anything. 'It hasn't even been properly vetted, Coakley said he still wants to...'

But Maggie trailed off abruptly as she realised that Todd... Todd was... Todd was _crying._

Well, not crying, exactly... mostly trying _not_ to cry, which, in Maggie's experience, was how men cried. He'd taken off his glasses and was pressing the heel of his hand into his face, eyes clenched tight, his face directed down at his knees as a few suppressed sobs came out between clenched teeth.

'Oh, oh Todd... Todd...' she murmured as her heart broke, and she instinctively took him in her arms. Todd pressed his face into her shoulder and allowed himself to at least somewhat break down while Maggie murmured any soothing words that came to her.

'I'm not good enough, Maggie,' he said in a muffled, shaking voice. 'I'm not good enough to do this. I don't want to make several more rubbish wands before everyone realises it. I don't know what to do.'

'You're talking bollocks, Todd! You _are_ good enough,' she said, still somewhat in shock to see these previously unknown, deep-seated insecurities of Todd's suddenly laid bare. 'Everyone says so!'

'Everyone except the person who matters.'

This confused her for a moment, until she realised he was talking about Mr Ollivander.

'I've wasted my life, training for this,' he said in that shaking voice again. 'I've been delusional, thinking I could be a wandsmith, when my dad's been hinting for ages that I shouldn't be.'

'Todd,' Maggie coaxed, 'what in the name of Merlin are you on about? Hinting —?'

'You heard his speech today, down in the workshop.' Todd broke away, turning his face away from her. 'Keeping it a family business is "old-fashioned, irrelevant and potentially harmful to the craft". He doesn't want me doing this. But I thought I could prove myself worthy — what a pathetic joke!'

'Todd, you missed the entire point of that speech,' Maggie said seriously. 'He said you're here because of your skill, not because of your blood.'

'But _what_ skill? That proved to be false today!'

Maggie fell quiet, not because she thought he was right, but because she was so taken aback by just how hard he was taking all this. When she'd considered knocking on his bedroom door before saying goodbye, she'd expected she'd encounter disappointment and frustration, maybe, but not overwhelmed despair.

'Your dad _does_ want you here, Todd,' she said softly, slowly. 'Trust me. I know what it looks like when a father doesn't want to have anything to do with his kid.'

Todd suddenly stilled beside her, and Maggie instantly regretted revealing that little insight into her life. Now he'd just want to ask questions, she thought with a sigh.

But he didn't.

'I'm sorry,' he said hoarsely, simply, instead.

'I...' Maggie shook her head, annoyed with herself. 'I didn't mean to make this about me, I'm sorry, I —'

'No, don't be sorry. You're not wrong. You're right. I... need to keep things in perspective.' The two of them were silent for a bit. Each seemed to be at a bit of a loss for words. Todd sniffed. He moved his shoulder discretely across his cheek and replaced his glasses. 'He's a fool, by the way,' he said thickly. 'Your dad. He doesn't know what he's missing out on.'

Maggie opened, then shut, her mouth, feeling the colour rise in her face. 'Thanks.' It was a statement that made her feel both uncomfortable and comforted at the same time. She fiddled with the vine wood wand in her hand to distract herself. Probably best to do a bit of non-verbal magic, in case it didn't work. _'Lumos,'_ she thought to herself, and the wand flickered like an overhead light that needed to be changed.

He shot her an annoyed look.

'Sorry,' she said, sheepishly. It hadn't occurred to her that it might be obvious she was testing it. She was still too wary that he would snap it, so she placed it in her robes.

Todd hugged his legs to his chest, placing his chin on his knees, and gave another great, depressed sigh.

'All right. That's it,' Maggie said sternly. 'Get up. We're going to my flat.'

Todd glanced at her, startled and confused. 'We are?'

'You need to learn to mope in a way that's much less dramatic. I'm going to teach you the joys of watching hours of mindless telly.'

* * *

Todd and Maggie were 45 minutes into a Hitchcock film on ITV, sitting under a duvet on the Gibsons' sofa, when Maggie began to nod off.

'I can't believe you don't care to find out how this ends,' Todd said, peering over a mug of hot chocolate that Maggie had made for him, his eyes transfixed on the screen before him.

'I've seen it before,' Maggie mumbled into a pillow under her head. 'Everything's about to go tits up.'

'Well I could've told you that. I just want to see _how_ it's going to go tits up.'

'Falling asleep in front of the telly is part of the experience, Todd,' she mumbled again. 'Don't fight it.'

Todd looked over at her with a grin, and Maggie smiled back at him sleepily, happy to finally see him happy again tonight.

'Isn't the wand-forging incantation meant to be draining?' she said, closing her eyes again. 'Why aren't you exhausted?'

'I am exhausted,' Todd answered, and Maggie did notice that there were significantly heavy bags under his eyes. 'Mate, get that bloody pipe out of your mouth,' he said, gesturing irritably at the screen. 'I can barely understand you with your accent as it is.'

'You do know they can't hear you, right?' Maggie said, amused.

'Give me a little credit, Maggie,' he said slyly. 'Wait,' he said, his attention jerking back to the screen, 'what's he writing down there?'

Maggie pried an eye open again. 'The car's number plate,' she mumbled.

'What's a number plate?'

'TODD STOP ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS,' Maggie said, laughing all the same. 'That's your fiftieth one since this film started!'

'Sorry,' he said with a startled grin.

'Oh, shit,' she whispered, looking nervously at Simon's bedroom door. 'We ought to be quiet, Simon's sleeping.'

'You mean _you_ ought to be quiet. By the way, I'll get him that Pepperup Potion tomorrow.'

'On Christmas Eve?' Maggie said dubiously. 'Won't Slug and Jiggers be closed?'

'I'm sure Malkin can whip something up. If he can't, then he can open the shop for me for five minutes to let me buy some. Damn,' he said, returning his attention to the screen. 'I think we just talked over an important plot point there. How do those two blokes know each other?'

'I dunno, I forget. You're really not embracing the "mindless" part of mindless telly, Todd.'

Todd chuckled, taking another sip. Maggie watched William Devane and Ed Lauter mutter at each other, listening but not really listening.

'Todd?' she said softly into the pillow.

'Hm?'

'How much do apprentices make?'

'Thirty Galleons a week.'

'Oh. Good. That's better than I thought...'

'I'm not sure if that's what you'll be making, though,' he said, continuing to be transfixed by the — in Maggie's opinion, rather dull — film. 'Since you're younger, I don't know if the work you'll be doing will be as frequent as typical apprentice work.'

'Drat. So it might be less?'

'Possibly. Coakley wasn't sure yet what your salary would be?'

'I forgot to ask,' she said sheepishly, 'and I already told him I'd do it.'

Todd laughed. 'Excellent negotiation skills, Gibson. Eh, don't worry, I'll find out for you and write to you with the answer tomorrow.' He cleared his throat. 'Just, er, just send me an owl letting me know you got it. It's been a little weird, writing to you and hearing nothing back. I know you've been busy, though,' he added hastily.

'It was just one letter that I didn't answer,' she said guiltily. 'I am sorry, though.'

Todd glanced at her with an odd look. 'Well... more than one...'

'More than one what?'

'Letter. I sent you way more than one letter.'

'Well, sure, I know we were corresponding a lot at the beginning of term, but I answered all of those.'

Todd was shaking his head, confused. 'No, no, I wrote to you loads of times after you came to visit me last month.'

Now Maggie was frowning in confusion. 'I only got one letter from you since I last saw you.'

Todd set down his cocoa and turned to face her now, brow creased with worry.

'How many did you send?' she asked.

Todd hesitated. '...three,' he said, turning slightly pink as he faced the television again. 'Not counting the Christmas party invitation. So... a total of four, I suppose.' He looked at her again. 'And you only got one of them?'

'That's right.'

Todd seemed to be thinking, drumming out a nervous beat on his knee with his fingers. 'That's not good. I wonder if your post is getting intercepted.'

'I'm still getting letters from other people,' she said slowly. 'From Simon and Sana.'

'So you're just not getting my letters?'

'Apparently not.'

Todd took a slightly shaky breath. 'Well that's not good. That's not good at all.'

'Did you share any inside information when you wrote to me?'

He exhaled slowly, thinking. 'No, I don't think so. I've been careful. And none of those letters had secret messages in them, like the others we wrote to each other.'

'Has anyone else told you they aren't getting letters from you?'

'I'm not really writing to anyone else,' Todd said with a nervous shrug. 'Everyone else I talk to is already in Diagon Alley. Well, then. I'll definitely stop writing to you... or... maybe I should continue? If someone's intercepting your post, maybe I can... I don't know, put out false information or something? Throw them off the scent?'

'But what _scent?'_

There was that nervous shrug again.

'I _hate_ this,' Maggie said, sighing and shaking her head. 'It's bad enough having to look over my shoulder everywhere I go, but to bring others into more danger just because you're associating with a Muggle-born makes me feel so —'

'We're not in danger because of you,' Todd cut in, raising an eyebrow in surprise. 'Ollivander's has been a target for a decade at least. They don't like any of us, especially not since my dad and I took an Unbreakable Vow.'

'That's what Coakley says, but I don't know... Snape told me recently that I'm in danger, being a Muggle-born at a wand shop during war time...'

'Snape?' Todd said, looking flummoxed. 'What does that bellend know? He told you that you were in danger?'

'He did,' she said, meeting his eyes. They were both sitting upright on the sofa and facing each other, the film playing before them mostly forgotten.

Todd frowned. He seemed to be mulling this over as he kept opening his mouth, looking dubious, but then shutting it as he continued to think.

'I don't know if he meant it in an abstract way or not,' she said, crossing her legs on the sofa.

'Yeah... that's what I'm trying to decipher as well...'

'The things he'd been saying to me earlier were just pure insults, so I don't know if he said that just to scare me or not.'

'Wow, what a great professor,' Todd said, making a face. 'What did he say to you?'

'Eurgh... nothing.'

'Oh, go on. I'll send him a Howler and tell him to go shove his greasy head in a toilet.'

She made a light noise of exasperation. She knew she couldn't tell him.

But Todd cocked his head, and she tried to think of some way she could get this off her chest.

She sighed, frustrated. 'He basically said I was hired because... because of... favouritism.'

Todd snorted, baffled. 'Well, Coakley usually harbours mild resentment for almost everyone, so the fact that you're his favourite is a testament to your abilities.'

'No, not... Coakley.'

'Then who?'

She hesitated, reluctantly giving him a meaningful look.

He flushed slightly. 'What... me?'

'He said I only got the job because... the wandmaker's son...' Maggie shrugged helplessly, trailing off.

Todd waited for her to finish, and when she didn't, he cleared his throat. '...put in a good word for you?' he suggested awkwardly.

'Yeah... In a matter of speaking.'

'Maggie. That's just incorrect.'

'Is it, though?'

'Yes,' he said pointedly, meeting her gaze. 'It is.'

'It does seem weird,' she said, unconvinced, as she picked at a piece of fluff on the duvet, 'to hire a Muggle-born during these times. There must've been some extenuating —'

'Maggie.' Todd sounded downright annoyed now. 'It's hard enough for the Ollivanders to defend the rights of Muggle-borns when you're _not_ putting yourselves down. Have a little faith in yourself.'

Maggie looked up with a frown. He sounded like Alice. 'Excuse me,' she said testily, 'for being a little insecure when I'm regularly told by the wizard _and Muggle_ _worlds_ that I'm lesser.'

'But it's not based in fact,' Todd said, digging in his heels, 'and I know you're brighter than that! See sense, Maggie. My dad doesn't include me in even the minor facets of decision-making in the shop; I certainly don't have any influence over something as important as personnel matters! Not in any significant way. You didn't get the job when I brought you into Diagon Alley a year and a half ago; you _did_ get the job when you came of your own volition. The extenuating circumstances were that you showed up at Diagon Alley, nearly a year ago to the day, demanded an interview on the spot, and then put on a show that made Coakley downright _giddy_ and that made me jealous as hell!'

She frowned, getting annoyed because he was so annoyed. 'Well that's just,' she sputtered, 'that's just — very... Well, it's — it's very — nice. Of you.'

'I'm not being _nice,_ I'm stating the bloody facts!' He picked up his cocoa again, taking sullen sips as he slouched further under the duvet, putting his socked feet up on the table. 'And yes, _by the way,_ I do recognise that I'm being very rude to someone who's been very kind to me tonight and I'm _sorry,'_ he groused to the television set. 'My emotions are all over the place tonight. It's that bloody wand-forging incantation. It always leaves me feeling so... unhinged.'

Maggie eyed him, begrudgingly amused, out of the corner of her eye for a few moments. The couple on the screen were shouting at each other as they stood in front of a house in California.

'Thank you,' she said, finally taking a deep breath and taking the irritated compliment. With a wry smile, she added, 'I'll admit I'm qualified if you admit you're qualified as well.'

'Not a chance,' Todd said with a snort. 'Don't try to out-sulk me, Maggie, you'll lose every time.' He pouted at the screen as the film continued. 'Well now I've no idea what's going on anymore.'

They watched in silence for a bit, at one point breaking into sudden, snorting laughter at the characters' rather stupid plan to drug a bishop at a church.

'Todd, I think I'm going to go to bed now.'

'What?' he said, startled, as he sat up a bit. 'In the middle of the story?'

'You're more than welcome to stay and finish it.'

He looked as if he was going to turn the offer down, moving to get up, but then his expression turned uncertain. 'Could I? I really... don't want to go back to Ollivander's tonight.'

'Honestly, you're more than welcome to sleep on the sofa,' she reassured him. 'That was my assumption when I invited you over.'

'Well... all right,' he said. 'Are you... sure you don't want to stay? And finish it with me?'

'I'll just keep talking over it,' Maggie said, shooting him a grin over her shoulder as she padded toward her bedroom.

'Well never mind then, clear out Gibson.'

'Good night, Todd,' she said with a laugh.

'Er — Maggie?'

She had just shifted her hands just right to reveal the door to her secret bedroom, and as she opened it, she turned back to face Todd in the doorway.

'Thanks, for — for everything,' he said.

She crossed her arms and shrugged, embarrassed. 'I should've spoken to you as soon as your dad gave you the bad news. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm glad I found you on the roof tonight.'

'I'm glad you did too, I just wish I hadn't been so...' He was glancing around the room, seemingly searching for the words he was struggling to find. 'I wasn't joking, when I said the incantation always leaves me a bit... raw. It — it's draining. So, you know. So. It's not a normal thing for me to get quite so...' He trailed off, finally just wincing at the ceiling in embarrassment, presumably unable to find an acceptably manly word to describe the state he'd been in on the roof of Ollivander's.

'I know. You don't have to explain.'

'I _really_ feel like I do. I'd never... under normal circumstances, I would never just...' He trailed off again, looking pained and unable to meet her eyes.

'The next time we meet up, I'll try not to... you know... accidentally endanger your life when I show up.'

'Right,' Todd said with a nervous laugh. 'Well, you're always welcome to materialise unexpectedly, anytime. It's always a pleasant surprise.'

'The big black button on the box,' she said, pointing, 'that's how you turn the telly off, okay?'

'Er... right. Got it. OK. Well... Good night, Maggie.'

'Good night, Todd.'

Maggie closed the door behind her, her cheeks warmer than she would've liked them to be. She shook her head again, as if trying to clear it of this overwhelming fondness that had been taking hold lately. There was really nothing to feel guilty about, after all. It was just fondness.

She pulled Todd's vine wood wand out of her sleeve. She'd tried to give it back to him when she'd made him the cocoa, but he'd only vigorously shaken his head, as if just looking at the wand made him feel ill.

She placed it on her desk before she fell asleep, intent on assessing it herself tomorrow.

* * *

Todd yawned the next morning as he squinted at the electric kettle, examining it from all angles. There was water in it, check. The plug was connected to the electrical outlet in the wall, check. But... nothing was happening.

Neither Gibson was up yet, and Todd was happy to figure this out on his own anyway. He would've simply tapped it with his wand to heat it, but he knew from experience that tapping electrical devices with your wand usually ended badly.

His limited knowledge of Muggle electronics told him that there should be some sort of button to make a thing like this work. But, as far as he could tell, there was no button to be found.

He frowned as he ran his hands around it, searching for something, anything that should trigger the damn thing to heat the water. There was... one thing that caught his eye... a small piece of plastic that looked relevant in some way. He pushed it, which did nothing. Then he pressed it down, like a switch, and the kettle begin to make a satisfying _whirring_ sound.

'Ha!' Todd said, grinning around the room to a nonexistent audience. 'I did it!'

He found a mug and a box of tea bags in the cupboard from where Simon had pulled them when the Order of the Phoenix had last been here, grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator, and eventually poured boiling water into the mug, over the tea bag.

Todd felt very pleased with himself indeed as he quietly sipped his tea while morning light filled the Gibsons' tiny kitchen. In times of crippling self-doubt and personal crisis, sometimes you had to seek solace in the little things. Like television. And electric kettles.

That being said, yesterday _had_ been a night of disasters. The first one, of course, being the wand. The second disaster being that he'd broken down crying in front of the girl he fancied.

Todd sighed, leaning against the counter and frowning as he sipped. He hoped he'd conveyed to Maggie just how much the incantation could rattle one's mental state and make a person temporarily fragile and emotional in ways they typically wouldn't be. Every insecurity he'd voiced on the roof that night had been true, of course, but he normally wouldn't say it out loud, and definitely wouldn't be such a _mess_ if he did express it...

Todd cringed with his whole body as he recalled how he'd acted on the roof. He might as well just give up on Maggie as a romantic prospect now, after she'd seen him like that. He sighed heavily again, and took another gulp of tea.

Todd started as there was a knock at the door.

He looked around the flat, unsure what to do. He'd hoped Simon or Maggie had heard it, but neither of them emerged from their bedroom, so Todd cautiously strode across the room and, hesitating at first, opened the front door.

And on the other side was... Robbie Ellerby.

'Oh. Hello,' Todd said, blinking dumbly, steaming mug in hand, and, most damningly, still wearing rumpled dress robes.

A look of shock and outrage crossed Ellerby's face, and Todd raised his other hand defensively, trying to think of how he could most succinctly explain the situation. But he also didn't really want to, and would've preferred to simply slowly close the door in the Gryffindor boy's face so he could return to his breakfast.

'Todd!' Maggie burst out of her bedroom, donning a long-sleeved T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, her hair an adorable soft mess of frizzy, long curls, and looking so happy she was practically dancing. _'The wand, it works!_ I was just able to conjure a — Oh! Robbie.' She halted at the spot with the vine wood wand in her hand, staring at the two wizards who were staring at her. It appeared that she didn't know how to succinctly explain the situation either.

 _'Maggie,'_ Robbie thundered, _'what in the name of Merlin's saggy left nut is this twat doing here?'_

She held up her hands. Todd wished she didn't look so bloody guilty, considering that they were both perfectly innocent here. 'It's not what it looks like, Robbie,' she said.

'Why is it that whenever someone says that, it's usually exactly what it looks like?' Robbie was vacillating between looking angry and looking hurt, and Maggie moved toward him to reassure him.

'He had a really bad night,' she coaxed. 'We watched telly, we talked for a bit, he slept on the sofa. Nothing happened.'

'I wish I'd known you had a cosy sleepover planned with Todd Ollivander, so I'd know not to waste my time coming here today.'

'Robbie, _please_ don't overreact.'

He seemed to be disregarding this advice as he strode toward Todd, who put his hand in his pocket, lightly touching his wand. _'Stop it, Ollivander,'_ Robbie hissed. _'Just stop.'_

'Stop _what?'_ Todd said, annoyed.

'You know _exactly_ what you're doing.'

'He didn't mastermind some shrewd plan, Robbie,' Maggie said, frowning as she placed herself between the two of them. 'Last night was terrible for him, he was _crying_ for heaven's sake!'

There was a brief, stunned silence. Robbie blinked, looking surprised. Worst of all, he seemed to be suppressing a laugh. 'He was... _crying?'_

Todd took off his glasses and cleaned them to hide just how mortified he was, seriously considering walking over to the kitchen window. Ollivander's wasn't quite tall enough for the jump to kill him, but the Gibsons' flat was temptingly high.

Maggie, who had caught a glimpse of Todd's face despite his inability to look anyone in the room in the eye, looked like she seriously regretted sharing this.

Todd cleared his throat, replacing his glasses. 'I think I'll be off, then,' he said. 'As Maggie said, nothing happened here. Nothing _will_ happen here.'

'Todd, I'm... I'm sorry, I... _'_

'There's nothing to be sorry for, Maggie,' Todd said with a sigh. 'Have a good Christmas. She's all yours, Ellerby.'

She caught his arm as he moved to go. 'Todd. Wait.'

Todd raised an eyebrow, Robbie looked at her sharply, and Maggie held up a weary hand to the both of them. 'I was able to conjure a Patronus with your wand,' she said steadily to Todd, 'and I'm rarely able to conjure a Patronus with my own. The wand works, Todd. It works.'

This piece of intriguing news flickered briefly through the gloom that was Todd's mood, but he still looked at the wand dubiously as she held it out to him. 'A wand that only works some of the time is no better than a wand that doesn't work at all,' Todd said with a depressed shrug.

Maggie frowned at this. 'I don't think it's faulty, I really don't. Either way, just bring it back to the shop, and let everyone test it some more. Please.'

Todd made a light noise of protest, but she pushed it into his hand, and he finally relented. He opened his mouth to say another goodbye to Maggie, but she was already threading her fingers through Robbie's hands, inevitably beginning the process to reassure her boyfriend that he was the only one she loved.

Todd stepped away from the two of them, strode towards the door, and decided to Disapparate before he even reached it.

* * *

Two days later, Todd's mood hadn't much improved.

Diagon Alley was always very quiet on Boxing Day. It was always so jarring, to have the borough so busy for weeks as witches and wizards desperately finished their Christmas shopping, and then, the hustle and bustle just suddenly stopped.

It had been a quiet Christmas in the Ollivander household as well, with his dad not really sure what to say to him. It didn't help that Todd would abruptly change the subject whenever Garrick Ollivander tried to tentatively broach the topic of the vine wood wand, so eventually his dad got the hint.

For once in his life, wands were the last thing Todd Ollivander wanted to talk about. So, the evening of Boxing Day, he decided to temporarily escape the wand shop and the wandmaker and take a slow stroll through the darkened streets of Diagon Alley.

It was just all so depressing. Everything was closed, and even half the shopkeepers were on holiday, visiting family. Derek and his mum would always spend Christmas Day and several days after in Cornwall with family. The only people Todd really knew who stayed here during Christmas were the Fortescues.

He halted abruptly in front of the ice-cream parlour, surprised that his feet had brought him here. The parlour was closed, of course, but Todd could see flickering candlelight illuminating Deirdre's bedroom on the second storey.

It had been so exciting, to be pursued by this beautiful witch when he'd been sixteen. No one at Ollivander's really treated Todd much differently than any of the other apprentices or full-time employees, so he'd grown up thinking that he was simply one part of the impressive, awe-inspiring process that was wand-crafting. His dad wouldn't have it any other way, and on most days, neither would Todd.

Todd typically only used the phrase 'Ancient and Most Noble House of Ollivander' if it were part of a joke, and he prided himself on dismissing other pureblood families' snobbishness with an eye roll and a snort.

But... his ancestry did hold a special place in magical history, there was no denying it, and he was the sole heir to that not-insignificant institution. And when Deirdre had kicked off their relationship with a kiss on the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, she made him feel like he was magical Britain's most eligible bachelor.

To her, he was a catch. To her, he was someone to be desired. To her, he was someone who would be a renowned wizard some day. Or already was renowned.

Todd stared up at the bedroom window for a while before he finally blinked and looked down at the ground. He bent down, picked up a couple pebbles from the cobbled road and took careful aim before lightly hitting the window with one, then the other.

Deirdre cautiously opened the window, poking her head out suspiciously. Her expression softened when she saw who it was. 'Todd?'

He gave her a nervous smile. 'I was wondering if I might trouble you for a cup of Floo powder.' It had always been something of a code phrase between the two of them. She smiled nostalgically, staring at him for a moment, before she said, 'Stay there.'

It wasn't until she opened the door on the first floor that Todd noticed how timid and scared she looked.

'Hey... is everything all right?'

'Dad's not home right now,' she said, hugging her arms tightly to her chest. 'Off on some hair-brained mission that Dumbledore talked him into. He's not an Auror, he doesn't work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He runs an _ice-cream parlour._ He shouldn't feel obligated to do _anything_ for _anyone,_ and yet...' Her tearful voice broke, and she looked away angrily.

Todd thought about pointing out that the only way they were going to win this war is if _everyone_ did _everything_ that was in their power to thwart Voldemort. But the typically confident, haughty Deirdre Fortescue looked so jarringly small and sad standing in the doorway that, for once, he held his tongue.

'Keep me company?' she said in a small voice, looking up at him. 'I really hate being alone these days.'

'Of course,' he said, frowning in concern. 'Well, it goes without saying then — forget what I said about the... er... Floo powder, obviously. I'll just put the kettle on, and throw up a couple extra protective spells while I'm at it. I'll stick around till your dad comes back. Don't worry, you're safe with me.'

She gave him a small, wistful smile. 'I know,' she said softly, reaching out to take his hand before she led him inside.


	30. The Apprentice's Decision

_A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm popping in to tell you that this may be my last update for the next several months._ _As this story begins its third act, I'm trying to make sure that all my plot-beat ducks are in a row and that all my outlined ideas are pre-written before I publish the last roughly 8-10 chapters of this story. Honestly, I'm not sure I have that much self-control, haha, so maybe you all will get an update in January/February, who knows. But I wanted to warn you that you may have to wait longer than that as I at least attempt to complete the last several chapters in bulk. Thanks for reading, and happy new year._

* * *

With his curtains closed, it was hard to tell what hour of the morning it was. Todd stirred in bed as he heard someone open the door and walk into his bedroom, and his mum came and sat down on his bed next to him.

'You've slept in long enough, love,' she said, running a gentle hand up his forehead. 'Time to wake up. I've made breakfast.'

'Not hungry,' Todd grumbled, rolling on to his other side.

She sighed. 'Don't be daft. You can't mope forever about this little hiccup with the vine wood wand.'

'Watch me,' he said sullenly.

Elspeth Ollivander tutted. She stood up and, to Todd's displeasure, opened his curtains to allow sunlight to stream in.

'You've been getting in very late these past few nights,' she said as she sat back down. 'One Miss Deirdre Fortescue wouldn't have anything to do with that, would she?'

Todd sighed grumpily. 'I never have any privacy in Diagon Alley.'

'I knew I was right,' his mum said smugly, then sighed herself and made a face. 'I suppose it was only a matter of time before you got yourself a girlfriend, but, Todd, dear,' she said with a groan, 'did it _have_ to be _Deirdre?'_

This got a wry chuckle out of Todd, despite himself. 'You never did like her very much.'

'I always feel like she's appraising every single person she sees, assigning them a value,' she said dryly, crossing her arms. 'Promise me one thing, darling, don't give her my wedding ring. It's goblin-made, and she'd treasure it for all the wrong reasons.'

Todd frowned into his pillow, confused. How could he give someone his mum's wedding ring? She was wearing it, wasn't she? But, of course, he _would_ give his mum's wedding ring to some girl someday, this was something he'd known for years... His brain felt fuzzy as he tried to remember why this was.

After a while, he simply gave up on this puzzle and changed the subject. 'Mum... have you ever seen dad cry before?'

'Of course,' she said, surprised at the question.

'Did it make you lose respect for him? Did it... I dunno, did it make him look... pathetic or something?'

His mum shook her head, smiling. 'Of course not. When you're close to someone, you're not afraid to show them how you feel. As a matter of fact, he cried on the day you were born.'

'That bad, huh?' Todd joked.

'Well, you were a very ugly baby,' said Elsie Ollivander, who was never one to miss a beat herself.

Todd laughed. 'Ah, of course,' he said with a sigh. 'Disappointing from day one.'

'Oh Todd, don't be a fool. Your father loves you more than anything in this world. Even if he's rubbish at showing it most of the time.'

Todd's eyes slowly fluttered open, morning light filtering through his window to wake him up — this time for real — from one of those dreams that he had once in a blue moon.

He took a deep, shaky breath, which caught in his throat, as he felt the familiar bittersweet pangs that always followed these sorts of dreams. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position in bed, lost in thought for a long while before he finally reached over to grab his glasses and his wand and begin his day.

Once he showered and dressed, Todd made his way into the kitchen, where his dad was quietly sipping tea and reading the _Daily Prophet_. Todd tapped a piece of bread with his wand to turn it into toast, which he buttered liberally at the counter before taking a seat at the table with his dad.

Todd munched thoughtfully, his mother's voice still echoing in his mind as he stared at the newspaper that obscured Garrick Ollivander from view.

His dad sighed with a frown, folding the newspaper and placing it on the table. It gave Todd a chance to glance at the article he'd been reading. The headline read, _DEATH EATERS LINKED TO MUGGLE ATTACK IN DUBLIN._

'Good morning,' his dad greeted him quietly as Todd stared at the moving photo of frantic Aurors working to rescue people who were writhing in pain, magically suspended above Ha'penny Bridge.

'Hm.' Todd set his toast down on his plate, rotating the paper his way so he could read it. No fatalities, thankfully. The Aurors had even managed to arrest two Death Eaters in the process. But everyone knew that the Ministry wasn't always successful in holding prisoners of war prisoner for very long.

'I thought you and I might return to work today,' Garrick Ollivander said.

Todd frowned, his eyes still skimming the article. 'Bit soon, isn't it? No one else will be back to work in the shop till after New Years.' He wasn't exactly keen on getting back to work. He didn't know if he could bear putting on his green apprentice robes, after thinking he'd be trading them in for black wandsmith robes in the new year. He was feeling a bit paralysed about what to do next — he could either do a postmortem examination of the vine wood wand and at least attempt to figure out what he'd done wrong, or start work on another wand which could end up being just as much of a failure. Both options, it seemed, would send him spiralling into a bit of a depression.

'As a matter of fact, I thought I might take advantage of how slow everything will be this week and carve out time to begin to teach you properly how to pair wands with wizards.'

Todd started, his head finally jerking up from the paper. 'Oh! Really?'

'Honestly, I've struggled to incorporate it into your lessons because I've never gone over it with an apprentice before. It's a task that's unique to Ollivander men and women. I always assumed that you would learn on the job when you help me with customers, but as you've seen of course, that's been more difficult than I expected. I'm often reluctant to interrupt the wand-pairing process — it requires the customer's full attention as well as mine. Nor did I anticipate that so many of my hunches are based on... well... observations that might be rude to voice aloud. "I'm getting the sense that this witch may be something of an outcast, let's try a pine wood wand for her" or "this wizard's very small and slight even for an eleven-year-old, so let's try a shorter-than-average wand for him", that sort of thing. As a result, I've neglected this crucial aspect of your apprenticeship. And after instructing Jack and Haeyoun recently how to pair wizards and wands, I'm confident that I've refined my ability to impart this particular knowledge.'

Todd listened closely to this short speech of his father's, attempting to pick up on any subtext. 'Do you really think I'm ready?' Todd asked sceptically.

'More than ready, I believe.'

Todd hesitated. Was this a vote of confidence, even after last week's disaster? Or, more than likely, was this an attempt to shift Todd's career path? Move him away from a wand-making track and have him focus on sales instead? Todd _could_ just ask his father outright what he thought, but... he was too afraid to hear the answer.

'Brilliant,' Todd said stiffly. 'Er, sure. We can get started now, if you like. I need to be done by five today, so the earlier the better.'

'Why's that? What do you have planned this evening?'

'Oh. I, er...' Todd cleared his throat. 'I have a date.'

Mr Ollivander blinked. 'Do you? With whom?'

Todd suppressed a laugh. His dad hadn't noticed the hours he'd been spending with her in Diagon Alley for the past several days? 'Er, Deirdre.'

His dad raised an eyebrow. 'Deirdre Fortescue?'

'That's the one.'

'When did that resume?'

'The, er, the night of Boxing Day. We ran into each other and... I dunno, it just sort of happened.'

'Does Florean know the two of you are together again?'

Todd winced slightly as he remembered Mr Fortescue's arrival that Boxing Day night. Deirdre and Todd had heard him coming up the stairs, so they'd had time to pull apart and pull themselves together, but Mr Fortescue had squinted suspiciously at the flushed and disheveled young adults who were sitting weirdly far apart from each other in the living room and who greeted him a little too brightly. Todd recalled he was "reading" the _Daily Prophet_ upside down when Mr Fortescue came in.

'I'm not sure... Probably.'

'Hm.' His dad scratched his ear, looking disgruntled. 'Things were a bit awkward when the two of you were together last. I remember Florean once asked if I knew your whereabouts one particular night, because he'd been sceptical of his daughter's insistence that she had spent the night at a friend's in London.'

'Well,' Todd muttered sheepishly, 'she _was_ spending the night with a... friend in London that night.'

His father shot him a disapproving look, and Todd held up his hands placatingly. 'Look, that shouldn't be a problem this time around. Apparently Deirdre's been looking into getting her own flat in Hogsmeade for a while now, and she'll probably be moving soon.' Todd shrugged. 'Honestly, I've been thinking about getting my own place soon myself. Maybe even in a Muggle area. It'll be weird to leave Diagon Alley, but, frankly, it's weirder that I'm out of school and still living with my dad.'

Mr Ollivander frowned. 'I don't think it's weird,' he said, looking a little sad.

'Well,' Todd said with a slight smile, 'it's just an idea. I've not really made any plans yet. Let's forget it for now and go downstairs, and we can start these wand-pairing lessons. Ooh, maybe you can teach me how you do that creepy thing where you lurk in the shadows and give customers a heart attack when you say hello to them when they first arrive.'

* * *

Todd quickly found, however, that there was no time for lessons in dramatics. He and his father spent full days in the wand shelves for weeks, going over how one could pick up on the subtleties of a personality, could judge what wand might be best based on the way a person moved, carried themselves. How you could use knowledge of all sorts to guess which wand may be right for a person, from the specifications of a customer's parents' wands to the distance between a customer's nostrils.

Mr Ollivander pushed forward several appointments with customers who were seeking new wands after theirs had broken, and after a few weeks Todd was beginning to get the hang of it. Things were going so well that Todd couldn't help but feel some of his confidence return, despite his concerns about the future of his wandsmith career.

For the first time in a while, he felt like the shop was on his side, and Todd could've sworn that the wands on the shelves were helping him out, the right pick nudging out just slightly as his hand lingered in the air while he decided, or a wand gently vibrating inside its box when a customer entered the store.

This was not the case today, however, and Todd frowned at the quite-still wand boxes on the shelves. He tried not to let his father's presence behind him, nor a customer's fidgeting noises in the front of the store, distract him from his concentration.

'Are you sure this new wand will work as well as my old one?' Sarah Scamander called nervously from the front.

'Yes,' the Ollivanders said in impatient unison.

'I just can't believe I dropped it into that cauldron yesterday,' she groaned. 'That's the only wand I've ever known, I can't imagine a life with a new one.'

'It's not a bad idea to swap out a wand every decade or so,' Todd called back distractedly, climbing a ladder to better scan the section of Poplar wands. He was wearing Muggle clothes today, and he couldn't help but notice how nice it was to not have to worry about stepping on the hems of his robes. In preparation for a date in Muggle London with Deirdre tonight, he'd donned trousers, a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a waistcoast, the shop's tape measure hanging around his neck. 'You're a different person than you were when you were eleven. Sometimes people have been needing a better fit for years, and they don't even realise it. OK,' he muttered to his dad, 'she's 5-feet-6-inches tall, has a knee-to-armpit length of 2-feet-10-inches, and a head circumference of 20 inches. So the best wand length would be nine and quarter inches, right?'

His father responded with silence, which was his typical response these days whether Todd was correct or not. He wanted him to figure it out himself.

'But I need to account for the fact that she's very petite,' Todd muttered, 'so... it actually ought to be nine-even, I think.' He snatched the wand off the shelf, as his father made a noise of approval.

'Very good,' he murmured as Todd made his way briskly back to Sarah.

'All right, let's try this one,' he said, opening the box for her. 'Poplar-wood wand, unicorn tail hair core, nine inches.' She took it, but Todd frowned, disappointed, as she did. 'Hm.'

'So this isn't the one, either?' she asked.

'No,' he said, voice slightly muffled in his hand as he stood in front of her, thinking. 'Tell me, what kind of magic do you most enjoy doing? What sort of spells come most easily to you?'

'Erm.' Sarah tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, nervously fiddling with the not-right wand in her hands. 'I prefer potions over everything. Honestly, wand work isn't really my forte. Er,' she looked down at her feet, and seeing that one of her shoe laces was untied, bent down, and in doing so, Todd witnessed one of the most horrifying breaches of wand etiquette he'd ever seen.

 _'SARAH!'_ Todd said, flailing in front of her. 'Take that out of your _mouth,_ for the love of _Merlin_ —'

'Oh! Sorry!' Sarah said, jumping up, surprised, as she retrieved the wand that she'd placed in her mouth as she moved to tie her shoe. 'Force of habit, sorry —'

Mr Ollivander came out from the shelves, looking as alarmed as Todd was.

'Sorry, sorry!' she said. 'I forgot for a moment it wasn't my wand, I'm sorry.'

 _'YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT WITH ANY WAND AT ALL!'_ Todd sputtered.

'Oh, well, my granddad does it all the time, it's perfectly fine as long as it's your own wand.'

 _'THERE IS NO UNIVERSE IN WHICH THAT IS FINE!'_ Todd said, almost swaying on the spot. He actually felt light-headed right now.

She handed it back to him sheepishly, and Todd snatched it back, desperately examining it while his dad looked over his shoulder.

'There's nothing... _technically_ wrong with putting it in your mouth,' his father said, though he sounded a bit scandalised himself. 'The wands can withstand it, that won't alter the magic in any way...'

'There aren't any teeth marks on here, thank god,' Todd rasped as he turned it over in his hands.

'I'm _really_ sorry,' she said meekly.

'It's OK,' Todd said, putting his hands on his knees as he recovered. 'It's — it's OK.' He raised a hand in her direction, getting her to back up slightly. 'I can use this, er... _insight.'_

He straightened up slowly, placing the wand back into its box with extra care. The two Ollivanders walked back toward the shelves, exchanging furtive looks which said, _Honestly, don't people have any respect?_

After replacing the wand box on the shelf, Todd grasped the ladder firmly, rolling it forcefully from one part of the shelf to another. 'Well, knowing _that,_ Poplar's all wrong, obviously,' he said.

'Yes, obviously.'

'It's got to be something hardy. Chestnut, I think.'

'Yes, I was just about to propose chestnut. Or larch.'

'Sarah,' Todd called from the shelves, 'what kind of wand does your granddad have?'

'Er, a chestnut-wood wand with a dragon heartstring core, I think?'

'Chestnut it is,' he said, plucking one off the shelves which contained a unicorn tail hair, nine inches.

A moment later, Todd was carefully opening the box in front of a still-sheepish Sarah.

'I think you'll find this one to be much more robust than that wispy thing you've been wielding for most of your life,' he said, anticipation building in his chest. 'Light and airy was probably best for you when you were younger, but I think this is a much better fit for you now. And, it'll even withstand a good number of potions ingredients, if you drop it in a bubbling cauldron again. That's not a guaranteed warranty, though,' he added with a grin.

Sarah hesitated before she tentatively picked up the wand and grasped it, and Todd's grin widened. The wand, slowly but surely, began to crackle with dazzling, golden sparks, and she turned it in her hand, fascinated, before muttering, _'Calore,'_ conjuring a small, rotating orb of fire that illuminated the shop and her delighted face.

Todd gave a small, happy sigh of contentment. Wand pairing was always a bit more magical with adults, who already knew spells and were often inspired to perform a bit of spontaneous magic on the spot when handed just the right wand.

She flashed him a smile, and without prompting, placed the wand in her robes. The orb of fire disappeared, instantly bringing the shop back to its dimly lit state.

'Just promise me one thing,' Todd said to her sternly.

'It's not like I bite down on it or anything, Todd!' she said with happy exasperation. 'It's a perfectly reasonable thing to do!'

'Well, it's _not,'_ he said with a groan. 'But, fine. It's your wand.'

* * *

Mr Ollivander turned the sign from _Open_ to _Closed_ as Sarah left the shop. The enchanted quill marked the last sale of the day in the ledger book. For the first time, Todd noticed that the quill had taken on Maggie's handwriting. He smiled as he watched it cross its Ts in a bit of a slapdash manner.

'That's another successful day under your belt,' Mr Ollivander said brightly, brushing dust off his hands. 'I think you're ready to begin manning the shop on your own next week, in my opinion.'

Todd looked up distractedly, pulling himself from thoughts of last summer. 'Really? You do?'

'Well, I'll be close by if you run into any tricky customers who stump you. But the thing about wand-pairing is that it is, essentially, fool-proof. It's clear when a match has been made and when one hasn't, and so as a result I don't think you need my supervision all the time anymore.'

This shouldn't have stung, but it did, in Todd's still-insecure state. _Fool-proof._ So even a fool could handle it.

'Right,' Todd said quietly. His father looked at him, puzzled, and appeared to be about to inquire what was wrong when there was a sudden knock at the window.

Todd was, once again, instantly transported back to last summer, though of course he knew that the person behind the door wasn't who he was thinking about currently. Ignoring a wave of déjà vu, Todd strode to the door, used his wand to unlock it, and found Deirdre holding a flowery pink umbrella in the rain outside.

'Hello, love,' he said with a smile. She smiled back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 'Er,' he said, looking down at her pink robes under her cloak, 'you'll need to change before we go. Remember, I said I'll be taking you to a Muggle restaurant tonight.'

'Again?' she said, somewhat exasperated. She walked under the Thief's Downfall with her umbrella, and Todd's dad waved his hands a bit frantically.

'Through the water, Miss Fortescue, if you please,' Mr Ollivander said, a touch of desperation in his voice. 'We've discussed this, you of all people should understand how important this is —'

Deirdre redirected her exasperated expression to Todd's dad, but relented, closing the umbrella with a snap and walking back out, then back in, sopping wet.

'Dry me off, Todd, please.'

'Oh, but you look so lovely right now.'

She shot him an annoyed look, and he grinned as he walked around and pulled her wet hair back, touching the tip of his wand to her neck as he performed a Warming Charm.

Mr Ollivander cleared his throat. 'I'll head upstairs now. Todd, if you, er,' he waved awkwardly, grasping for a euphemism, 'plan on sleeping in Hogsmeade tonight, please send me an owl so I don't worry where you are.'

'No owl necessary, I do plan on spending the night in Hogsmeade tonight.'

'Not if you don't dry me off properly, you won't,' Deirdre said, looking over her shoulder at Todd with an annoyed raised eyebrow as now-warm water trickled down her temple.

'Right then,' Mr Ollivander told the wall to his left. 'Well, goodnight then. I'll see you tomorrow.' He made his way up the stairs, and Todd turned to Deirdre with a smile once he was gone.

'I just wanted to do this before I dried you off,' he said, gently tipping her chin up with a finger and kissing her softly. She melted into him, and Todd wondered in a bit of a daze why he hadn't gotten back together with this witch sooner. They pulled away eventually, and Todd swept a Drying Charm over her with a casual flick of his wand. 'I'm serious about you having to change, though,' he said wryly. 'It's a nice place, I promise. It's just Muggle.'

'The only reason you keep making these Muggle reservations is because you want to see a bit more leg and a bit more cleavage than if I wore robes.'

Todd shook his head, amused.

'I can't believe you're denying it!' she said, hitting him teasingly. 'I know you too well!'

'You're not _wrong,_ but if you really think that's the main reason I'm taking you to all these fantastic places in one of the greatest cities in the world, you really are missing the point.'

'There are _plenty_ of fantastic restaurants in wizarding Rome, and wizarding Paris. We could just go there instead,' Deirdre said, toying with the tape measure around his neck. 'You look ridiculous right now, in these Muggle clothes,' she said fondly.

'Do I? Madam Malkin said I looked dashing today.'

'Well, Madam Malkin basically thinks of you as a son, so I think her compliments are a bit biased.'

'Well, Madam Malkin is also basically a fashion expert, so I think I'll take her word for it.'

Deirdre rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. 'You're in a good mood today.'

Todd breathed deeply, hopefully, nodding a bit. 'Yeah, I am. Work was good today. I paired loads of wands with witches and wizards, with basically no help from my dad. I'm getting good at it, I think. I found a wand for Sarah Scamander, and the whole process was just... fun.'

Deirdre dropped her hands. 'Oh, was it?' she said, suddenly cold.

'Er. Yes...?'

'Well, you did always like red-heads.'

Todd blinked. 'Deirdre,' he said, baffled. 'You _can't_ be serious. We're not honestly getting into this again, are we? You can't accuse me of flirting every time I speak to another woman who's vaguely attractive —'

'So Lily and Sarah both fall into the category of "women who are vaguely attractive", do they?'

Todd fought to keep from rolling his eyes. Oh, right. There were a few different reasons he hadn't wanted to get back together with Deirdre, many of which were slowly coming back to him. 'Just a reminder — I spoke to Lily at a Slug Club party. Once. About Peeves. I don't understand why you get so jealous about this.'

'Every bloke always fawns over Lily,' Deirdre muttered. 'Even Slytherins. Even Severus Snape was head-over-heels in love with her.'

Todd, confused and distracted, shook his head. 'Wait — Snape was head-over-heels for... who?'

'For _Lily,_ I just said. Anyone with half a brain noticed it.'

Todd laughed in disbelief. 'Lily was in _Gryffindor._ She married James Potter. She's in the Ord—' Todd cut himself off, clearing his throat. 'Yeah, there's absolutely no way. She couldn't be less his type.'

'Men have one type, Todd: attractive,' Deirdre said, as if explaining to a child. 'That's the only type of compatibility they care about.'

Todd frowned at this, wondering to what extent she thought this applied to him. 'Did Snape even ever _speak_ to her?' he said. 'I don't think I've ever seen them interact, even once.'

Deirdre shook her head, and Todd was somewhat relieved to see that she seemed to simply be amused with him again. 'They used to be quite close. It was bizarre — a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, thick as thieves. But then they had a huge falling out in your Fifth Year, when you first came to Hogwarts. But, I mean, neither of them were in your house, so I suppose it's not completely absurd that you didn't notice.'

'Yeah,' Todd said, squinting as he thought back, 'that was O.W.L. year. I was too busy to make eye-contact with anybody that year, let alone keep track of all their tragic love stories.'

 _'Ravenclaws,'_ Deirdre said with a snort and an eye roll.

'What's wrong with Ravenclaws?' Todd said in mock defensiveness as he used his wand to summon his jacket into his hand.

'A lot of things,' she said archly. 'But I suppose you do have a redeeming quality or two.'

'I bet we're easily the best in bed. Good listeners... very creative... fast learners...'

'Well, I wouldn't know myself, but I actually hear Hufflepuff men are very, er, conscientious _._ It makes sense, if you think about it. They're patient, and they're very... hard workers. And,' she added, her sly grin widening, 'I hear they're particularly good finders.'

'Merlin's pants, you're _right,'_ Todd said, shaking with laughter as he put his arm around Deirdre and opened her umbrella, shielding the two of them as they walked out into the rain. 'Well good for them, those poor buggers deserve a win.'

* * *

As important of a bestowed honour as it appeared at first glance, manning the shop on his own turned out to be one of the dullest responsibilities that Todd had ever had.

Moving up the appointments meant that Todd and his father had already helped most witches and wizards who needed to have their wands fixed or replaced. For the first few days during which no customers arrived, Todd tried to find work to occupy himself on the first floor — double-checking the ledger book, polishing the wands, studying the wands on the shelves and thinking about what kind of witch or wizard might best suit them.

But by the fourth day in a row during which no one had showed up, Todd had taken up less constructive means of entertaining himself — creating and then enchanting intricate paper helicopters; subtracting 150 points from the Quidditch box scores in the paper to determine which teams had the best Chasers and Keepers this season; perusing Muggle tabloids he'd gotten from Charing Cross Road and getting repeatedly distracted by Page 3.

It was on one of these less-than-productive days that Todd was putting the finishing touches on a house of Exploding Snap cards at the counter.

'Steady, steady,' he murmured to himself as he constructed two careful triangles at the top of the tower. Todd would later think back on this moment many times, and he never could determine which heart-stopping moment happened first — the card's explosion, or Bellatrix's sudden appearance in the shop.

'Er,' he said, feeling his mouth go dry as cards fluttered around him, 'hello.'

Bellatrix seemed unperturbed by the flurry of Exploding Snap cards that were raining down in the shop front. 'Is this how you greet all your customers?' she asked calmly. 'At wandpoint?'

Todd looked down at his hand. He hadn't even been aware that he'd automatically taken a defensive stance as soon as she'd come through the door. He took a deep, steadying breath, attempting to mirror her calm, collected manner. _'Evaporare,'_ he said briskly, waving his wand at her. 'Terribly sorry about the enchanted water at the door, I know it gives a lot of our customers quite a start. How can I help you, Miss Black?'

'Actually,' she said silkily, subtly flashing a not-so-subtle ring on her hand, 'it's Mrs LeStrange now.'

He gave a disinterested grunt. 'Congratulations.'

She moved forward smoothly, placing her hands on the counter and leaning in confidingly towards Todd. She was so close that he could smell the bloodroot flowers in her perfume. 'I'm afraid I'm experiencing a witch's worst nightmare, as of late.'

'Is that so?'

'Yes. I'm afraid I've lost my wand.'

'Really? Where was the last place you remember seeing it?' Todd said icily.

'I've searched high and low,' she said with a sigh. 'I don't know how I misplaced it, but there's no sign of it. I may have to give up hope at this point. As much as it pains me to say it, I think it's time I got a new wand.'

Todd stared down at her for several moments, breathing carefully and saying nothing.

She stared back calmly, blinking slowly. 'Is that a problem?'

'Of course not,' Todd said shortly, kicking off the routine that he'd already performed with about a dozen customers. He tapped the tape measure with his wand, and it sprang to life, twisting itself artfully around Bellatrix's body. Todd took careful note of where the tape measure's silver markings aligned around her skull and down the length of her arm.

'The previous wand you had was walnut, correct?' he said, making his way to the shelves.

'Yes. Walnut and dragon heartstring.'

The wand boxes swam in Todd's vision somewhat, and he clenched his eyes shut and reopened them in an attempt to focus, wiping his sweaty palms on his robes. It wouldn't do to linger, he shouldn't keep her out of his sight for long. He finally zeroed in on the red oak section of the shelves and crouched down to snatch a twelve-and-three-quarter inch wand with a dragon heartstring core from the bottom.

'Right then, Mrs... LeStrange. Try this one.'

She grasped it, and Todd could immediately tell it was all wrong. Nevertheless, she dragged the tip softly across the top of the counter, creating a rather deep gash in the counter's wood as she muttered _'Lacer.'_

Todd frowned.

 _'Reparo,'_ she said, smirking as she immediately removed the gash in the wood. 'I don't think this one feels quite right.'

'Yes. You're welcome to test the wands with spells as we go through this process, though I'd ask you to refrain from vandalism, if you can help it.'

'I'll try my best,' she said with a broad smile.

Todd scowled as he held out his hand for the wand, which she returned to him. He walked back to the shelves, his anxiety running higher than ever. He scrubbed his face, running his hands underneath his glasses as he stared at the shelves again, the wand that had rejected Bellatrix still in his hand. He plucked out a few more choices, walking them back to Bellatrix LeStrange, and each time, it was immediately clear that those wands weren't right.

'I'm sorry to ask, but is your father available?' Bellatrix said derisively. 'I don't think it's much to ask. Isn't he typically the person who does this?'

Despite his nervousness, Todd's eye twitched as he returned to the shelves. 'This is Ollivander's. You're being helped by an Ollivander.'

He heard Bellatrix give a haughty sigh. Todd ignored her, squinting sceptically at the hornbeam section. Hornbeam might work, but Todd had the distinct feeling that if he did that, he'd be moving further from the mark rather than closer. He frowned, frustrated, at the red oak section again. Red oak _should_ have been bang on. Why didn't it take?

He shoved a few rejected wand boxes aside on the ground as he returned to the original wand he had offered her. He squinted at the writing on the side of the box. _Red oak. 12 3/4 inches. Swedish short-snout heartstring._

Todd grinned with the realisation, almost forgetting how terrifying this situation was. He dropped to the ground, crouching on his knees as he stretched his arm all the way into the back of the shelf, pushing boxes haphazardly out of the way as he searched for the wand that he knew would be right. Once he found it, he pulled the wand from its box, examined it closely, and jumped up.

'Okay. We're going to try this one now,' Todd said breathlessly as he emerged, disheveled and dusty, from the shelves, holding the potentially perfect wand in his hand. 'Red oak. Twelve-and-three-quarter inches. With the heartstring core of a Peruvian Vipertooth dragon.'

Bellatrix LeStrange's eyes lit up as she took it from him.

She slashed it through the air in a flash of green light, and Todd, who knew he was already too late, dove behind the counter.

He was frozen on the ground in blind, paralysing fear for several moments before he realised that a dead person would not be breathing as heavily or rapidly as he was in that moment, nor would his heart be pounding so hard that it felt as if his chest might explode. He was still trembling as he got to his feet, his wand clutched so tightly in his left hand that his knuckles were white.

Bellatrix was laughing. 'Sorry about that, Ollivander,' she said, her eyes glinting manically. 'My first wand emitted green light when it chose me as well. I remember your dad was quite shaken up too when that happened nine years ago.'

Todd was currently unable to speak. His arm was twitching uncontrollably as he held it out for her wand, which she gave to him. He walked into the wand shelves again to retrieve the box, and focused on not vomiting.

That unpleasant display was going to make this magic significantly harder to perform. Todd put his hands on his knees and breathed. At least it deepened his resolve that what he was about to do was the right course of action.

Once he got his shaking hands into a manageable state, Todd produced his own wand. _'Lacer,'_ he thought, using Bellatrix's own spell to make a small incision into the perfect wand that he was about to sell to a Death Eater. He carefully pushed his own wand into the incision. _'Mora vitiate,'_ he thought, fighting the natural instincts that were literally in his blood, and he felt the spell leave him with a shudder. Satisfied, he closed the wand up again with a quick, swift, _'Germinare.'_

He was lucky that Bellatrix's flash of green light had given him such a reasonable excuse for his agitated demeanour as he returned to the counter and wrapped up the wand, because even under normal circumstances he would probably be trembling after such a violation of wandlore.

He accepted her money and watched her go without a word, darkly wondering how many months it would take for the infected wand to begin to affect its new owner.


	31. Testing the Bounds

_A/N: Hello! I'm alive!_

 _I've spent the last several months writing four complete chapters of_ The Wandsmiths _. There's still more to write, but I'm now confident enough with the direction of the rest of the story to where I can begin publishing again._

 _There is… a snag, however. I've come up with a new story for my characters that is, in some ways, similar to_ The Wandsmiths _, but it's also different in many, many ways. The minute that I envisioned an improved, more concise version of this story with several major changes, I literally could not stop myself from writing it._

 _The new story, which also stars Todd Ollivander, will be titled_ "Down a Blind Alley." _The story is not complete, but the outline is, and I will begin publishing it soon. I may even simultaneously update_ The Wandsmiths _while I do, because I still want to complete_ The Wandsmiths.

 _If I were a professional fiction writer, this would just be a normal part of the writing process — take a first draft, light it on fire, and let a new story rise from the ashes. But this is FFN, where chaos reigns, so I'm just going to let both stories exist in the world._

 _I know that's very unusual and more than a little confusing. I'm sorry — thank you for indulging all this nonsense. I'm glad to be back._

* * *

On the second floor of Ollivander's, in the first week back from the holidays, at a workshop table that had been pushed into a poorly lit corner of the room, Jack Coakley was not doing any work.

Or, rather, he didn't appear to be doing any work, as nearly a dozen people bustled around him — talking, arguing about wood quality, whittling, shrieking that they'd just dropped an important unicorn tail hair and nobody move, loudly demanding where the Romanian Longhorn dragon heartstrings were, muttering incantations.

Coakley was ignoring all of them, instead staring off into the middle distance with his arms crossed at he sat at his workshop table with Todd Ollivander's vine wood wand in front of him.

Here was the conundrum: The wand was able to perform magic when Coakley wielded it. But not when Garrick Ollivander did.

Coakley regarded this as more intriguing than concerning, and when he'd discovered the other day that the wand responded to him, he'd eventually wrenched it from Todd's agitated grasp and was now finally getting a chance to examine it.

Wandlore was often mysterious. Even now, decades into his profession and approaching retirement, Coakley still often witnessed wands do things he'd never seen before. It was one of his favourite aspects of his job — just when you were starting to get bored, just when you fancied yourself an expert, a wand did something remarkable that made you question everything you knew.

'Dae you reckon it's strange blood magic at work?' Coakley had asked Garrick. 'What a son has wrought, a father cannae fathom?'

Garrick had looked dubious. 'That hasn't been my experience with my own father. I've been able to cast spells with wands he forged.'

So Jack Coakley had, for the past half hour, been thinking about what he and Todd Ollivander had in common, what trait they shared that Garrick did not. It was a tricky thing to ponder. If someone had stopped Coakley on the cobbled road of Diagon Alley and asked him for the first defining word about Todd that came to mind, that would be simple: annoying.

If pressed, Coakley would begrudgingly acknowledge a few other, positive attributes, many of which Watts had outlined at the Christmas party last month. But many of Todd's best traits he shared with his father. If there was one thing that only Todd and Coakley had in common between the three of them, it was a slight tendency to put themselves in danger, as long as they were confident they could pull it off. But, that wasn't really fair — Garrick did not lack courage. He sold wands to Muggle-borns in the face of death threats. And he had taken an Unbreakable Vow.

Still... perhaps he should pass the wand round to the Gryffindors in the shop, and see if that solved the mystery, just in case?

No. No, no, no. He was going about this the wrong way. Because the most interesting thing about this wand wasn't that it responded to Coakley or that it didn't respond to Garrick. It was that it only responded to Todd _sometimes._ And the same went for Maggie, according to what Todd had told him.

Yes... Maggie... Now she might be the key to solving this. It had been a while since Coakley had last had an apprentice, and he'd forgotten what a great sounding board an apprentice could be for puzzles like this.

He'd been planning to pop over to Scotland for lunch this afternoon, anyway.

* * *

'I didnae know that the headmaster himself came tae open the gates for visitors these days,' Coakley said, the snow crunching beneath his boots as he walked across the Hogwarts grounds with Albus Dumbledore.

'These days, we rarely open the gates for any unannounced visitor,' Dumbledore said with a weary smile, one that lacked some of the headmaster's typical merriment. 'You were fortunate to arrive just as I was leaving Hagrid's. I've directed the staff that no one should gain entry without my express permission. And were it not for your offer to allow me to examine you closely, and perform several tests, I would not have welcomed you in, either.'

'Nae bother. If anyone understands the need for that, it's an Ollivander's employee. In fact,' Coakley said cheerily, 'I'm surprised you even remembered I played Keeper for Ravenclaw. No' a bad security question.'

'In my opinion, it was actually a terrible security question, which was why I asked you several others. Anyone who attended Hogwarts during that time would've undoubtedly remembered the rather colourful taunts you used to direct at the Chasers,' Dumbledore said, a much more genuine smile now tugging at the corners of his lips.

'Aye,' Coakley said, glancing nostalgically at the Quidditch pitch. 'It was a shite tactic, too. Just motivated the Chasers even more. Minerva once chucked the Quaffle at me with so much force that I flew back through one of they goals, Quaffle and all.'

'Yes. If I recall, you told her, in so many words, that she was so stuck-up that she was practically English.'

'Aye. She nearly broke ma rib.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Now, unfortunately Jack, my memory for my past students' Quidditch histories is far sharper than my memory of my present students' daily timetables. I don't know where Miss Gibson is at the moment, nor whether she's free.'

'She is,' Coakley said confidently. 'She's told me many times that her timetable gies her a free day on Wednesday, and she always spends it in the library. That's no' tae say I'll certainly find her there, but I'll wager it's where she is the noo.'

Dumbledore led him into the castle's entrance hall and took a route that, even after all these years, Coakley recognised instantly as the route to the library, and he easily fell into step beside Dumbledore as they took a winding path down several corridors and up a staircase. Coakley even jumped the trick step out of decades-old muscle memory, if not a little less nimbly than he would have as a teenager.

He was hit with another wave of nostalgia as the two of them pulled open the great oaken doors to the library, and he caught his breath as the unique light, the scents, the quiet sounds of the Hogwarts library all brought back a flood of memories.

Coakley smiled as his eyes fell on Maggie, seated at a table by herself and looking a little tired. Both her hands were threaded in the curls at her scalp as she stared down a textbook, and she didn't look up even as the two wizards approached and stood before her.

'Maggie, hen,' Coakley said genially, 'how're you keeping?'

Maggie nearly fell out of her chair as she jerked up at the sound of his voice.

'Merlin's pa…, er, Professor Dumbledore! Mr Coakley! Wha — hi! Hello?'

'Miss Gibson, the educator in me disapproves of any attempt to disrupt a student's revision. But,' Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, 'the academic in me cannot deny an intellectual pursuit. And so here we find ourselves.'

'No' tae worry, Dumbledore, I'll no' overstay ma welcome,' Coakley said as Maggie raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I donnae expect tae solve this in one afternoon.'

* * *

'So, what did I interrupt?' Coakley asked, once he'd explained to Maggie why he was here and she began to gather her things. 'What are you working on the day?'

'Well,' Maggie said guility, 'I'm meant to be reading up on wood nymphs. But I got distracted by this section on elderberry, and I just completely went down a rabbit hole. There's no way any of my N.E.W.T. exams will delve into the wandlore aspects of plants, but I just can't help it. I keep thinking about the kinds of wands my friends have, the kinds of wands my teachers have. Reading about the qualities of certain creatures, certain types of wand wood... it's like having some sort of blueprint to their soul. All this information's just out there for me to learn and to read, and if I do, then I've uncovered something that had previously been sort of... I don't know. Secret. Do you know what I mean?'

'You know who's go' an elder wood wand?' Coakley said wryly as they left the library.

'Who?'

'Dumbledore.'

' _Has_ he? And what core?'

'Couldnae tell you. Don't know masel'. See, the one he uses the noo, he didnae get it from Ollivander's.'

'You're _joking._ Where did he get it, then?'

'Nae clue. Garrick's asked. That man cannae stand not knowing, drives him mad. But Dumbledore never says.'

'Well that's fascinating... Elder wood, hm?' Maggie said, lost in thought. 'A material known to be both blessed and cursed…'

'Aye...'

Coakley opened the door for Maggie, and the two of them entered the empty classroom.

'So,' Coakley said, producing Todd's wand, 'Todd tells me you were able tae produce a Patronus with this, is that right? Was it corporeal?'

Maggie stiffened. 'Oh.' She paused for a long moment, until finally she said, 'Yes. It was.'

'Well,' Coakley clasped his hands together enthusiastically, 'that'll be the one we start with, then, aye?' He _was_ curious to find out what shape her Patronus would take.

Another pause. Twice she looked up at Coakley and opened her mouth to speak, but both times she fell silent.

'Take as long as you need,' he said gently. 'It sometimes takes me a wee bit tae get into the right frame of mind, too.'

But it didn't seem as if Maggie were trying to recall a happy memory. If anything, she looked like she might be trying to come up with an excuse to suddenly leg it out the door. She stared at the wand in her hand, running her thumb up and down the handle and chewing her lip nervously.

She pointed the wand with a look that she didn't usually wear while performing magic and whispered, ' _Expecto Patronum._ '

Nothing happened.

'Try again,' he said.

She took a shaky breath. ' _Expecto_ —'

'No, no, no, Maggie, you've go' tae concentrate,' Coakley said, frowning. 'You've go' tae let the happy memory fill you up. I can tell you're no' there, hen.'

She made a light noise of protest and shook her head, shooting an annoyed glance at the wall.

'You have tae focus. You know this.'

'I know, I know.' She sighed, relenting, and closed her eyes. Coakley noticed her breathing gradually slow. A small, slight smile began to play at her lips, and, finally, she raised the wand. ' _Expecto Patronum_.'

And... nothing happened. Maggie didn't look particularly shocked.

Coakley frowned. 'Maggie... you didnae... _lie_ tae Todd, did you? Tae...' he gestured awkwardly, 'tae cheer him up, that sort of thing?'

'Lie to cheer him up?' Maggie repeated indignantly, raising her eyebrows. 'No, of course not.'

'If you did, it'll dae far more harm than good, trust me.'

'I didn't lie,' she said, annoyed. 'Look. Let me try a few different spells, OK?'

'Of course.'

 _'Refringere lumen_ ,' she said, casting her Mirror Charm, but nothing came of it. She sighed, and turned to the window, pointing it at the latch. _'Aberto.'_ But the window remained closed. ' _Avis_!' Still nothing. Maggie made a guttural noise of frustration and slashed the wand through the air. _'Incendio!'_ she shouted, to no avail.

Coakley squinted at her suspiciously.

'I wasn't lying!' she said angrily, plopping down into a seat at a desk. 'You don't believe me?'

'Well,' Coakley said, 'I dae believe you, somewhat. It works for me, after all.'

'Yes! OK, yes, so you do know!' Maggie said, brightening. 'Which spells work for you?'

Coakley shrugged. 'All of them. The wand never fails me.'

Maggie looked surprised. 'All of them?'

'Aye.'

She flipped the wand thoughtfully around in her hand. 'So you don't think it's a dud, then?' she said, stopping to examine it closely. 'You think it's a proper wand.'

Coakley hummed thoughtfully. 'Aye, I suppose I dae.'

'Then why doesn't it work for me half the time? Or... at all, it seems now,' she said, slightly miserable. He took the wand from her. 'Lumos,' he said, and a glow as bright as any typical Light Charm shone from the tip.

Coakley gave an exaggerated shrug, and Maggie laughed, shaking her head.

'Talk me through your state of mind when the wand last worked for you, over Christmas,' Coakley said.

He handed it back to her, and she frowned. 'Well... I was at home, in my room. It was the morning after the Christmas party, I'd just woken up.'

'What was on your mind?'

'I s'ppose... I was thinking about the conversation I'd had with Todd the night before,' she said. 'He told me to... have more faith in myself. That I got my apprenticeship because of my abilities, regardless of my blood status. Regardless of him.'

'And when you successfully performed the Patronus Charm?'

Maggie grinned to herself while she fiddled with the wand. 'I s'ppose at that point, I was trying to think like its maker. I closed my eyes, and I thought, _Channelling Todd Ollivander...'_

Squinting at it, she placed the base of the wand in her palm while her fingers twirled it in her hand. _'Refringere lumen,'_ she said again, and, this time, as she pulled the wand down it refracted the light so that Coakley was staring back at himself, just as he had during Maggie's interview.

'Well that's smashing,' Coakley said, smiling widely, and Maggie poked her head around the makeshift mirror in the air to shoot him a wide-eyed, open-mouthed grin of pure glee.

'Holy shit,' she said with a happy shriek, and Coakley laughed.

'What does it mean tae "channel" Todd Ollivander?' he said.

'Well,' Maggie said, vanishing the mirror with a wave of the wand, 'I imagined as if I were very stressed, and very high-strung, but in the end, confident in my abilities. _Orchideous.'_ A bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip, and she grinned again. 'I know — "I" being Todd — that I'm right and that I know what I'm doing, and therefore I know the magic will work. Does that make sense?'

Coakley slowly started to pace around the room, thinking. 'But Todd isnae always confident in his abilities,' he said. 'Which... might explain why the wand disnae always work.' He stopped and whirled around to face Maggie again. 'Try the Patronus Charm again, hen, but this time, think like Todd would.'

There was that sudden, inexplicable awkwardness from Maggie again.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'Nothing. I... OK, sure,' she said, with forced levity. She took another deep breath, and closed her eyes. Again, Coakley saw her begin to slowly smile, and she raised the wand. _'Expecto Patronum.'_

Nothing.

'Hmm,' Coakley said, frowning. He reached for the wand and took it from her, already readying his mind. He thought of Betty, of her cooking and her warm, mischievous sense of humour, of how she'd taken care of him after he'd been burned by the Fiendfyre years ago. _'Expecto Patronum,'_ he said, and the ever-familiar woodpecker emerged from the wand, a blur of silver as it fluttered around the classroom.

'Hmm,' he repeated, baffled. 'Well... a Patronus Charm _is_ advanced magic. So perhaps that shouldnae be our benchmark. Still... you were able tae dae it before...'

'So... just to try to make sense of all this... is this a "clap if you believe" situation...?' said Maggie, bemused. 'Do you get the reference?'

Coakley laughed. 'Aye. That's a bit of an oversimplification, but, aye, confidence in one's abilities does seem tae play a major role in whether the wand works or no'. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Garrick... he's no' one tae assume he knows best. This may come as a surprise tae you, hen, but Garrick Ollivander is always second-guessing himself. It's absurd. He's always consulting others. In my humble opinion, he's always right, but perhaps his strength comes from a desire to question everything — including himself.

'I'm no' sure Todd Ollivander is always confident in his magical abilities, but I dae think that is the temperament he gave this wand. Which explains why it worked well immediately after he forged it, but poorly once his father called it intae question. Self-assuredness is not necessarily Todd's state of mind, but it will be the state of mind of whoever wields this wand in the future. Whoever does will likely be a fairly insufferable know-it-all, I think,' he added with a snort.

'So you think it should go on the shelves, then?'

'Aye. I dae. But Garrick has the final say, of course, so we'll see if this new theory of ours will pass muster. And I would like to clarify this Patronus matter as well. Practice with your own wand for a bit, and maybe we'll see if you can cast the charm with the vine wood wand once you come back during the Easter holidays. Dae you have any theories of your own why that charm wouldnae work for you?'

Maggie shrugged. She looked baffled herself, but... Coakley was growing to know her well enough to see that she was hiding something.

* * *

Maggie shifted her rucksack on her shoulder and waved from the stone steps outside the castle, watching Coakley stride briskly across the Hogwarts grounds toward the gates to Disapparate.

She blew out a slow, careful breath, which materialized in a brief cloud in front of her face in the cold, before turning on her heel and walking back into Hogwarts.

Right. Back to Herbology revising. Maybe she'd make some actual progress this time.

But, now more than ever, wandlore was cluttering her thoughts as she walked back to the library, making it difficult to focus on the topics that would actually be on her N.E.W.T. exam. Stupid Patronus Charm. And stupid Maggie Gibson, who didn't stop to think what it meant to use that spell while testing the vine wood wand. It meant she'd have to perform it again, in front of people.

Stupid.

Well, at least this was good news for the vine wood wand, which she'd found herself growing fond of over the past several months as she'd listened to Todd talk about it, watched him work on it, seen him admire it, then seen that admiration waver. She knew there had to be something special about that wand, because she'd found her thoughts drifting to him rather often since the Christmas holidays.

Maggie frowned, and shook her head.

The _wand_. She'd found her thoughts drifting to _the wand._

Maggie halted in the corridor, looking around, confused. Damn. She'd walked way past the library.

Annoyed, she turned around and headed back down the corridor, reminding herself to _focus, Maggie,_ that her apprenticeship at Ollivander's could be revoked if she earned fewer than four N.E.W.T.s... And failing her magical exams because she kept thinking about magic was exactly the kind of sad, ironic trap that Maggie often had to pull herself out of at the last minute every year before exams.

'Hey.'

Robbie smiled softly as he slipped his hand around her waist and fell into step beside her.

'Did your Charms class let out early?' Maggie said, startled to see him already.

He shook his head, puzzled. 'Nope. It's noon. Same as always.'

Maggie groaned.

'Morning get away from you?' he said with a grin.

'As per usual.'

'Aren't Ravenclaws meant to be schoolwork machines? Sometimes it seems like you're more easily distracted from your studies than I am.'

'Well, that's because I care too much.'

Robbie laughed. 'Well that's one way to spin it.'

'It's true,' she said, grinning weakly. 'If I only thought of essays and readings as these boring tasks that I just need to finish, then I could put my head down and do it more efficiently. But I get so interested in the work, and so I read stuff that's not relevant, I spend too much reflecting on it all, and I write essays that are longer than they ought to be.'

'Well, at least that translates to high marks.'

' _Sometimes,'_ she said dryly. 'But other times it translates to me falling asleep in the Ravenclaw common room at two in the morning with only half my homework done.'

'So _that's_ why you're always late to breakfast. I wondered for years why you were always bursting into the Great Hall with your robes all askew just as the food disappeared.'

'Thank god you've become my toast-supplier this year. I was worried I'd starve once Alice left.'

'Don't forget postman, too,' he said, taking a letter out of his robes and handing it to her as they walked into the Great Hall with the crowds of students heading to lunch. 'This one's from Simon.'

'Oh! Brilliant.'

She skimmed the letter as she sat down to eat at the Gryffindor table, Robbie taking a seat across from here.

'You know,' grumbled a boy with neat blond hair who was near them, 'it's a bit crowded even without people in other Houses sitting where they're not supposed to be.'

'Oh, bugger off,' Robbie and Maggie said in calm unison, not bothering to look up at him. Robbie and Maggie, like most Seventh Years, had once been like the younger students, nervously toeing the line and keeping a careful eye on the hourglasses that tracked the House points. But Robbie and Maggie, like most Seventh Years, no longer gave a shit. All the rules were dumb, and anyone who followed them was spectacularly lame.

How could any sane person muster the energy to care about the rules surrounding school uniforms, or curfews, or raising your hand to be called on before speaking up in class, when you were on the cusp of having to find your place in a war-torn world? Let the younger students care about House rivalries. The Seventh Years had real problems to worry about.

'Make sure that letter's not anywhere near me when it inevitably bursts into flames,' the student grumbled.

'You get a letter that bursts into flames one time, and suddenly you're branded for life,' Maggie said airily, taking a sip of pumpkin juice as she continued to read. The landlord was raising the rent again, and so Simon was making preparations to find a new flat. Maggie didn't think she'd ever seen so many curse words on one piece of paper before.

Hm. Maggie sighed a little wistfully. Her secret room would be gone, then. That was a shame. But, Maggie really ought to get her own place come summer anyway. Simon certainly deserved a little freedom, finally, after all this time.

'One? Try seven,' the student said scornfully.

Gryffindors could be so dramatic sometimes. Maggie hunted in her bag for a spare bit of parchment. She knew if she didn't reply to Simon now, it would slip her mind for days. She struggled to clear a place for her parchment and ink bottle at the table, ignoring the glares from the Fourth Year boy. But just as she'd started to tell Simon not to look for a two-bedroom, a thought occurred to her.

'Wait,' she said, looking up at the younger Gryffindor. 'Have there been lots of letters spontaneously bursting into flames lately?' Maybe that's why Todd's letters weren't getting to her? Was he charming them with some sort of self-destruction spell that was going off before they even got to Robbie?

'Not spontaneously. _He's_ been setting them on fire every morning!'

Maggie, more confused than angry, blinked. She frowned at the boy, who looked like he was regretting opening his mouth. She didn't turn toward the person he had gestured to. Not yet.

'What do you mean, "He's been setting them on fire"?' she said to the Fourth Year, who was suddenly very preoccupied with his stew. 'What does he mean?' she said quietly, finally turning towards Robbie.

'I just… I only… I only treated Todd's letters the same way that you… treated them,' Robbie muttered to his plate, his voice trailing off at the end.

Maggie stared at him. She shook her head in disbelief. 'But they're _mine_ to burn, Robbie. I can't believe… What if he had told me something really important?'

'He never told you anything important,' Robbie said, shrugging irritably. 'It was all just talk of parties and work and Diagon Alley and how bloody _boring_ it was without you —'

'Are you saying you saw that I had letters from Todd, _opened them,_ and then _set them on fire_?' Maggie said raising her eyebrows along with her voice.

'He _fancies_ you, Maggie! That bloke's been trying to steal you away from me for over a year! And what am I supposed to do, just let him? Just helplessly hand off his love letters to you, like some pathetic git?'

'If you had a problem with Todd writing to me, then you could have _talked_ to me about it, instead of secretly destroying my private correspondence before I'm even aware —'

'Oh so now it's _"private correspondence"?_ How romantic.'

'ALL LETTERS ARE PRIVATE BLOODY CORRESPONDENCE, ROBBIE!'

'Do you know how many times he's written to you in the month and a half since you rushed to his bedside? Four. Four times. He's not even —'

' _You've kept four letters from me?'_

'He wasn't even getting answers back, and he was still writing to you! This is harassment, Maggie!'

'It's only harassment if it's unwanted, you psychopath!'

'So what are you saying, then?' Robbie demanded angrily. 'Do you want to be with him? You've certainly not made any effort to distance yourself from him this year!'

'I'm definitely not so sure that I want to be with you anymore!'

'Fine!' He seethed. 'Fine! See if I care. Go run away with Mr Ollivander. I knew it was only a matter of time before you left me for his… his… _money,_ and his _name,_ and —'

But he didn't finish, because Maggie threw her glass of pumpkin juice in his face.

'I really liked you,' she said coldly, as he angrily scrubbed a hand across his sopping face. 'I really did. But you ruined everything so completely by being so bloody insecure.'

She gathered all her stuff so haphazardly that half the liquid in her inkwell splattered onto her robes, but she ignored the mess as she got up and stormed away from the Gryffindor table.

* * *

'Right. Shall we split a pitcher of ale, then? Between the two of us?'

'Todd Ollivander, if your idea of a romantic date is splitting a _pitcher_ with me, then you're even more hopeless now than you were at sixteen,' Deirdre said wryly.

'I was only joking,' he said, grinning. 'If I remember correctly, your drink of choice is usually whatever the most complicated offering they have.'

'And, unfortunately for me,' she said, craning her neck towards the front of the Three Broomsticks, 'it doesn't get very complicated here.'

'Maybe. Maybe not,' he said, standing up from the table to buy their first round. 'Let me try something.'

Deirdre watched Todd strike up a conversation with Madam Rosmerta, no doubt sharing bits of Diagon Alley news and inquiring about whether the shop owners up north were having any trouble with Death Eaters as of late. As nerdy as he was, Todd did always have a knack for hobnobbing. Probably something to do with growing up in a house full of adults.

And, of course, there were other reasons Todd might find himself drawn to Madam Rosmerta.

Deirdre's eyes narrowed slightly as he said something that made Madam Rosmerta cackle, and Deirdre muttered _'about time…'_ when he finally started pointing to various bottles behind the bar.

He returned with a tankard for himself and a glass tumbler for her. 'Let's see if this measures up,' he said, setting it down before her, and Deirdre took a sip of something pleasantly sharp.

'An old fashioned.' She was half-impressed, half-exasperated.

'A classy drink, for a classy witch.'

'Except that it's _not_ for witches,' she said, unable to keep a slight edge out of her voice.

'It's made with firewhisky,' Todd said innocently. 'Can't imagine it could be anything but a wizarding drink.'

Deirdre sighed. She took another sip. It _was_ very good. She just shouldn't have said anything out loud. She looked around carefully, wondering if anyone had overheard.

'Breathe,' Todd teased. 'I'm sure they'll let you finish it before they cart you off to Azkaban.'

Deirdre shook her head, too annoyed to meet his gaze. Todd loved being a blood traitor. Savoured it, even. It made him feel like he was smarter than everyone, made him feel like the hero of his own story. But what Todd didn't understand was that, while Death Eaters might not kill an Ollivander over something as stupid as ordering a Muggle drink in a wizarding pub, they'd happily make an example of someone like her.

But she couldn't bring up stuff like that in public. And someone was approaching them anyway.

'Don't look now,' she said, 'but your favourite professor's coming our way.'

Todd, who didn't catch her smirk, brightened. 'Burbage? I'd have thought she'd still be working at this hour…' He turned in his chair to look, then instantly whipped back to face Deirdre. He closed his eyes and groaned.

'Todd, m'boy!' Slughorn clapped a hearty hand on Todd's shoulder. 'Good to see you, good to see you in this neck of the woods!'

'Hello, Professor,' Todd said with a forced smile. 'Yeah, just in town visiting my girlfriend.'

'Ah! The two of you have found each other again!' Slughorn said, beaming at Deirdre and Todd. 'Minnie Malkin always insisted that you were destined to be together. And she's right, I couldn't fathom a smarter match myself.'

'How's retirement treating you, sir?' Deirdre said.

'Ah. Well, I appreciated the freedom, initially. I've been abroad for the past several months. It's been wonderful to catch up with old friends — Louis Girault, the Belgian Minister for Magic, he and I got to know each other during a Potions convention a lifetime ago. And then there's Werner Müller, the Seeker who played for Germany the year they won the World Cup in 1952, you couldn't meet a humbler Quidditch star if you tried. And of course Clea Casseville, who holds a top position in France's wizarding bank, do you know it's one of the few places in Europe where Goblins don't have control over the banks….'

Slughorn rambled on like this for a while, and Todd masked his exasperation by taking deep swigs from his pint.

'... but, things have been quite dull as of late. As a matter of fact, now that I've returned, I have half a mind to throw a Slug Club party here in Hogsmeade. Reconnecting with people across the continent has reminded me how many relationships I've neglected back here at home; I haven't seen many of my old students in _years!_ And, you know, I wouldn't want current Hogwarts students to miss out on future career opportunities just because I've gone. I don't think Severus Snape has cultivated the same, er, helpful atmosphere that I did while I was Potions Master…'

'I would say that's unlikely,' Todd said with a grin.

'So you see the dilemma, then! There are people in the wizarding world looking for talented up-and-comers, and there are talented up-and-comers at Hogwarts looking for job openings. Slytherin's Head of House really ought to be more conscientious of these things, wouldn't you agree, Miss Fortescue?'

'It is true,' she said. 'You prepared Hogwarts students for the future in a way that was much more helpful than most of the other professors.'

'Yes, you were a true philanthropist, sir,' Todd said.

'So I can count on seeing you there?' Slughorn said eagerly, either missing or ignoring Todd's facetious tone. 'You were always so busy before, while you were in school, but with N.E.W.T.s behind you — and top marks, so I heard! — you must have a bit more free time these days.'

'Oh, well…' Todd had the look of someone who was about to make up an excuse, but Deirdre cut him off.

'You know, sir, I've been on the job hunt myself, lately.'

'Oh?' Slughorn said, turning to her.

'Yes. I don't want to stay at the ice-cream parlour my whole life. Do you think any of your party guests might be looking to fill an entry-level position?'

Slughorn smoothed his mustache thoughtfully. 'Natalie Woe with the Department of Magical Catastrophes has been saying they may need to hire an additional secretary soon… Far too many reports coming in these days, as you might imagine… You'll need to make a good impression, of course, but I would certainly be happy to facilitate the introduction, if that's something you'd be interested in. And you'd, ah, bring your new beau along, presumably, yes?' he said, smiling hopefully at Todd.

'Naturally,' she said. Todd raised his eyebrows and shot Deirdre a look that said, _Excuse me?_ as Slughorn returned his attention to Deirdre. 'Owl us the when and where, and we'll be there.'

'Outstanding, outstanding!' Slughorn said, clasping Todd's hand. 'Well, you should both expect a letter from me within the week!'

Deirdre had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She'd never seen a man look so enthusiastic to shake hands with someone before, and Todd had the look of a person who didn't fully understand how he'd found himself in this predicament.

'Well, I'll be off, but I shall see you both soon,' Slughorn said. 'I'll make sure that Natalie will be there and that she knows all about you beforehand, Miss Fortescue.'

Todd sighed as he watched Slughorn make his way through the Three Broomsticks and out into the cold. 'Did he even _have_ a drink? I think that smarmy bastard may have actually followed us in here.'

'You might want to check your drinks for Armortenia when we go to that party, darling,' she said, grinning.

'Did you enjoy that?' Todd said, turning back to her with a frown. 'I've told you, I don't want to get chummy with that bloke. Slughorn's always trying to build up this network of contacts for himself for god knows why. It makes me really uneasy.'

'He's not a bad person. In fact, in my opinion, he's a better person than most of our professors were. Lots of Muggle-borns got jobs right out of school because of those Slug Club parties. He helped them make connections they couldn't have dreamed of otherwise.'

'Right,' Todd said with a sigh, taking off his glasses to clean them. 'Because it's impossible any Muggle-born student could actually be the best applicant for the job. It _must_ have been because of some connection made during a cocktail party.'

'You really have no idea how this works, do you?' Deirdre said irritably. 'It must be nice, being you. Having your future set. Not having to ingratiate yourself with well-connected people.'

'If you had earned more than two N.E.W.T.s, you wouldn't have to kowtow to anyone either,' he said, holding his glasses up to look for smudges. 'Besides, aren't you planning to emigrate, anyway?'

He replaced his glasses on his nose, and started when Deirdre's very angry face came into focus. 'What?'

Deirdre was not in the mood to walk Todd through the several reasons why what he'd said was extremely insulting. So she stood up and threw on her cloak.

'Deirdre!'

He followed her as she stormed through the busy pub, bumping into people and apologising as he went. She flowed through the crowd a bit more gracefully and had half a mind to Apparate as soon as she left. But he caught her wrist, gently, just before she reached the door.

'Deirdre,' he said, softer this time.

'The attacks in Diagon Alley happened around the same time I had to sit my N.E.W.T.s,' she spat angrily at him, 'and I didn't handle it well.'

'I'm sorry,' he said, and he genuinely seemed to mean it. 'I forgot.'

'You don't get to belittle me.'

'No,' he agreed. 'I don't.'

'And, by the way, I had stopped thinking about emigrating recently since we'd _started dating.'_

Todd blinked. 'Oh,' he said. Something flickered in his eyes that Deirdre thought might be unease.

'And that's why I thought it might be good to start building a future for myself in Britain. I'm thinking of staying.'

He nodded slowly. 'I'm sorry,' he repeated. 'Half the time I say something cruel like that, I don't even realise it's cruel until it's too late. I…' He ran a hand through his hair. 'I always regret saying that stupid sort of bollocks, but only… only recently have I realised that I have to… you know. _Tell_ people that I know it was cruel. _Say_ that I… regret it.'

Deirdre studied the wizard before her. He'd grown up a bit. When had that happened?

'Let me buy you a Butterbeer,' Todd said, smiling nervously. 'Something… you know. Properly wizarding. Something safe.'

Deirdre sighed, returning his slight smile. 'No. You had it right the first time. I'm going to finish the drink you ordered for me. It _is_ really good.'


	32. Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop

Here was the thing about Hogwarts: Delicious food materialized before you three times a day (as long as you made it to the Great Hall on time). Your laundry would emerge, clean and pressed, on your nightstand the morning after you'd chucked it in a basket.

But, in the entirety of the magical castle, there was no place to buy things.

Sure, a Head of House would begrudgingly supply a disorganised student with ink and parchment in a pinch, and a stockroom of toiletries was always accessible in the Hospital Wing. But specific conditioner for curly hair — that you had to go to Hogsmeade for.

Maggie was sullenly contemplating this on a Saturday as she hugged a pillow to her chest under the covers of her bed.

Four years ago, Maggie and the other Ravenclaw girls in her year had unanimously decided to magically stack all their beds atop one another. Maggie slept on the second-to-top level of their massive, sturdy five-level bunk bed that the girls still considered to be one of their best bits of magic to-date. It was a fun set up. But it _did_ make rolling out of bed in a depressed stupor difficult.

Maggie poked her head out from under her bed covers to breathe in cooler air, thinking about some other items she was running short on: green ink for her colour-coordinated N.E.W.T. prep notes, and some Madam Peck's Balm for Cracked Lips.

But did she really need lip balm? It's not as if she'd be kissing anyone anymore.

She sighed, but pushed off the covers regardless, dragging herself out of bed and down the rickety ladder.

There was every reason imaginable to skip this weekend's Hogsmeade trip. It wasn't pleasant outside, first of all. The weather was cold and dreary, which matched her mood and all but guaranteed she wouldn't have a good time.

And she needed to revise, especially for Potions.

And, finally, the last thing she wanted was to run into Robbie.

The other Seventh Year girls had all gone down to the village a couple hours ago. With the dormitory completely empty, Maggie stripped naked, peeling off her pyjamas and changing into robes at the base of the bunk bed. She didn't feel like taking a bath today. Or putting on makeup, or doing anything with her hair other than pulling her tangled curls back into a frizzy bun.

Right. Ink, and hair conditioner. That's all she needed. In and out. Then it was back to Hogwarts for lunch, by herself.

* * *

It wasn't as if Maggie didn't have any friends at school anymore. Adele Diggory had made several valiant but ultimately unsuccessful attempts to coax Maggie out of bed and convince her to join the rest of the Ravenclaw girls for the Hogsmeade trip.

But, if Maggie were honest, things just hadn't been the same since Alice and Frank had left Hogwarts two years ago. They were still in Hogsmeade, but in a different cottage — a fake-out that Dumbledore had suggested, though it made Maggie nervous. The Longbottoms had made a big show of saying they were moving to Belfast, but ultimately Apparated to a flat in the back of Dervish and Banges, which previously hadn't existed until Dumbledore had performed some rapid and truly impressive Undetectable Extension Charms in the middle of the night. The shop looked just as it always had, and Hogsmeade was none the wiser.

But, for obvious reasons, Maggie wasn't allowed frequent visits to see her two friends.

Walking down the path to Hogsmeade in silence, she recalled memories of she and Alice singing various Muggle songs at the top of their lungs as Frank would laugh and pretend not to know who they were.

Things were quiet at the Longbottom house these days, on the few opportunities Maggie'd had to visit. Alice and Frank had a baby to keep them occupied, but the two Aurors were getting restless, especially as the reality of their situation set in. Who knew how long they'd have to stay in hiding. Five years? Ten? Until Neville was of age? But even then, what if Voldemort simply attacked Neville the moment he stepped out of the secret flat, unprotected? Would the Longbottoms have to live out the rest of their days in cloistered existence?

It wasn't in Frank and Alice's nature to hide from danger. They had decided years ago that it was worth risking their lives on the slim chance that doing so would mean Voldemort's defeat. But risking your son's life was a different thing entirely.

Maggie rounded a corner on the path of pebbles, and the bustling High Street of Hogsmeade immediately came into view. Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head to shield against the wind, she trudged toward Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

Why was it that, when you were feeling despondent, people in high spirits automatically became absolutely unbearable? Maggie scowled at her feet as she tried manoeuvring around a crowd of rowdy Fifth Year boys, then stumbled back with a grunt of pain as someone abruptly banged into her shoulder.

She threw back her hood and turned toward her attacker in a fit of frustration. 'Will you watch where you're —'

'Sorry, didn't —'

Maggie looked up, her own expression mirroring the surprised look of the person who had just bumped into her.

'Well, well, well.' Todd's face split into a grin. 'I thought there'd be a chance I'd see you here today.'

'And you thought an assault was the best way to say hello?' Maggie grumbled, massaging her shoulder as she rolled it.

'You came out of nowhere,' he said apologetically. 'Ever consider being a Chaser for Ravenclaw?'

'It may be slightly too late for that,' she said wryly. 'It's good to see you. I _have_ been wanting to tell you the good news about the vine wood wand, ever since Coakley visited.'

Todd shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. 'Well, I wouldn't call it "good news", per se.'

'Did Coakley not tell you? We worked it out! The wand only responds when people are almost obnoxiously confident in their knowledge,' she said eagerly. 'So that was why —'

Todd waved impatiently. 'He told me all that. It doesn't matter. I still don't like that it's unreliable.'

'But that's the _point._ It's not going to work perfectly for everyone, all the time.'

He made a petulant noise of disagreement, shaking his head and looking gloomy.

'Todd.' Her sympathy for him was the only thing keeping her from laughing, and even then she was struggling. 'You used to be so stubborn that you were always right. Now you're digging in your heels about being _wrong?'_

'You still couldn't conjure a Patronus with it, no? Am I wrong there?'

Maggie frowned. 'Don't tell me everything's hinging on _that.'_

He shrugged. 'It's not irrelevant. Especially when we're trying to confirm whether or not the magic is working as it should.'

Maggie opened her mouth to argue, exasperated, but stopped as she glimpsed someone approaching Todd. 'What's with all the Diagon Alley people in Hogsmeade today?'

'Hm? What do you mean? Who else is…?' He turned to follow Maggie's gaze. 'Oh, you mean Deirdre! Well, she lives here now.'

'Oh,' Maggie said. 'But that doesn't answer why you're…' But her words died on her lips as Deirdre put her arms around Todd's torso in a side hug and tilted her head back, smiling up at him.

Todd, to Maggie's shock, kissed Deirdre hello. 'If you've read the latest issue of _Witch Weekly,_ Maggie,' he said, looking up, 'you'll know that Deirdre Fortescue and Todd Ollivander are an item again.' He chuckled nervously. 'Kidding. I'm not fit or famous enough to be in _Witch Weekly_.'

The two of them looked surprisingly great together: Todd, who despite being speccy and having a neat haircut that was far too square for 1981, did have a strong jawline and a wry smile that brought warmth into his piercing eyes. And Deirdre was… Deirdre. Tall, thin and blonde, donning a thick wool cloak over warm-looking pale blue robes. One of her hands was resting lightly on Todd's chest.

Maggie remembered self-consciously that her makeup-less face probably looked a little shiny and blotchy right now, and the top of her head was likely just oily frizz.

'Don't sell yourself short, darling,' Deirdre said to him archly. 'Our love story has been the talk of the town in Diagon Alley for weeks.'

Todd snorted. 'Only if you're getting fitted for robes. Well, it's good to see you, Maggie. We should probably be off.'

'Maggie, you should join us,' Deirdre said quickly.

'Oh,' she said, taken aback. 'No, I shouldn't intrude on your... date. Er, thanks, though.'

'I absolutely insist. You're Todd's friend, after all, and the two of you haven't seen each other since Christmas.'

Todd, brow furrowed, was eyeing Deirdre suspiciously, but she didn't seem to notice. He turned uncertainly to Maggie and shrugged. 'Got anything better to do?'

He had her there.

* * *

'New fabric out of Madam Malkin's,' Deirdre said, doing a quick twirl for Todd once he'd removed her cloak. 'Like it?'

He made an approving noise as his eyes wandered over her body. Maggie, who was already seated, smoothed her Hogwarts robes.

It hadn't occurred to her that she'd actually be accompanying them to Madam bloody Puddifoot's, although once she thought about it, if Deirdre didn't want to go the Three Broomsticks, that didn't leave many other options.

Luckily, Todd and Deirdre apparently weren't the sort of couple to shamelessly snog in the tea shop, at least. Unlike the rest of the patrons.

'I'm always amused by the wide spectrum of date-success in this room during any given Hogwarts weekend,' Todd said, looking around as he took a seat. 'See, those two are probably having the most fun, currently.'

He jerked his thumb matter-of-factly at a couple of Sixth Years. The witch was actually straddling the boy she was with.

'And those poor sods over there,' Todd continued, 'I think they're on the least successful date in this room.'

'We can _hear_ you, you know,' the boy said, scowling across the room at Todd. He and the girl he was with did look quite miserable.

'We've all been in your shoes, mate. It may feel like the end of the world when you get dumped, but trust me, life goes on.'

The boy flicked an obscene V at Todd, who simply smiled sympathetically before returning to Maggie, who was trying not to laugh. 'Point is, Hogwarts weekends can be fun, if you know how to entertain yourself,' he said.

A waitress brought over a large pot of tea, scones and some small sandwiches, and the three of them began reaching for milk and unrolling cutlery.

'Todd, I'm surprised you didn't arrive directly through Madam Puddifoot's fireplace,' Deirdre said, buttering a scone. 'Where were you coming from, when I found you?'

'From the Three Broomsticks.'

'Hm. Can't imagine what draws you there so often. Oh, wait. Yes I can.'

'Are you imagining me improving the protective charms around the pub?' Todd raised an eyebrow. 'Because that's what I was there for. Lots of shopkeepers here in Hogsmeade have lately been asking me to take a look.'

Deirdre made an unamused _hmm_ noise, taking a sip of her tea.

'Deirdre thinks I fancy Madam Rosmerta,' Todd said in a stage whisper to Maggie. 'Which is fine by me, because then she'll never realise that I only have eyes for my one true love: Tom Hops.'

Maggie snorted, puzzled. 'Who's Tom Hops?'

Deirdre and Todd looked at her like she'd grown a second head. 'Who's Tom Hops?' Todd repeated incredulously. 'He's the man who provides food, ale and shelter to wizarding Britain. He's our protector, Maggie. Our priest, our best mate, our —'

'He's basically a child-minder for adults,' Deirdre cut in dryly, before looking curiously at Maggie. 'Do you _really_ not know who Tom is?'

'Okay, okay. I've solved enough common room riddles in my life to know that you're talking about Tom from the Leaky Cauldron. Excuse me for not knowing his surname,' she grumbled.

'I don't know what a "common room riddle" is, but it sounds like something only Ravenclaw students would put up with.'

Todd snorted. 'You're not wrong.'

'I don't think we're allowed to explain it. But let's just say that it's yet another example of how Todd doesn't like being told that he's incorrect,' Maggie said wryly.

'Oh, right — I'm such a wet blanket for not wanting to figure out how a raven's like a bloody writing desk just so I can get to bed.'

Deirdre seemed less-than-pleased, watching Todd and Maggie tease each other in this way. She picked up his right arm and placed it around her shoulders, snuggling up next to him. He raised an amused eyebrow at his girlfriend, but caressed her shoulder nonetheless.

It had been a while since Maggie had seen Todd look so happy. She should've been more pleased to see him so content. She smiled awkwardly, feeling far more like a third-wheel than she ever had around Frank and Alice.

'Er, that's a surprising reference, coming from you,' Maggie said.

'Is it? Oh, right! I always forget that _Alice in Wonderland_ is a Muggle book, seems far more in line with wizarding fiction. My mum used to read it to me, actually.'

'Mrs Ollivander was such a good teacher,' Deirdre said, and Maggie got the distinct impression that she was steering the conversation back to topics with which she was familiar. 'She taught me how to read, when I was little. She tutored all the children in Diagon Alley, actually. Todd, do you remember how she'd teach history with Chocolate Frog cards? She could launch into all these stories about anyone on any card. She was brilliant.'

'She was loads better than Binns, that's for sure.'

'That's how I found out your _dad_ is actually on Chocolate Frog cards! Oh, it was so cute when Derek got that one, and your mum held it up! Wasn't your dad even in the room at the time?'

'Ooh, their standards are really slipping, don't you think?' Todd said, holding an imaginary Chocolate Frog card in his hand and affecting a Scottish accent in a slightly higher voice. 'These are only meant for famous people!'

Deirdre laughed, then leaned against his shoulder with a sigh. 'Do you think she would've been happy, to see the two of us together? It really is a fairytale love story; I'm sure she'd be as overjoyed as Madam Malkin, if not more so.'

A curious expression spread over Todd's face. Inexplicably, he seemed to be trying not to laugh. Deirdre, leaning against Todd with a faraway look in her eyes, didn't see him grinning and making a struggled attempt to reply.

'I'm sure she would've been happy to see me so happy,' he said finally, taking a sip of his tea with his free hand. 'Maggie, I'm sorry we're being so sappy. Where is zee German, anyway? Quidditch practice? You must have better things to do than listen to us bang on about our childhoods.'

'I've no idea where he is. We, er, we split up last week.' For some reason, Maggie felt heat rising in her face as she shared this news.

Todd said nothing, mostly because he seemed to be taking an overly long gulp of tea. Deirdre was watching him carefully.

Finally, he swallowed and set down his cup, coming up for air. 'Teenage boys are idiots,' he declared. 'Take it from me, an idiot teenage boy. Well, Maggie, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you're doing alright.'

'Teenage boys _are_ idiots,' Maggie muttered. 'Apparently sometimes they light your letters on fire without telling you.'

'Er... sorry?'

'Robbie was burning some of my letters from... some of my letters.'

He paused, properly meeting Maggie's gaze since she said she'd broken up with her boyfriend. 'Wait,' he said. 'Are you saying that _Ellerby_ is the reason you weren't getting my letters?'

'Yeah. I found out earlier this week. It's the reason I dumped him.'

'But… _why?_ Why was he burning them? Do you think he's… I mean, he couldn't have connections to _Death Eaters,_ ' Todd said, lowering his voice, 'could he? He was never my favourite person, but I never thought —'

'Todd, of course not! He'd not _Dark!_ He was just… well…' Maggie felt nervous voicing the obvious around Deirdre. 'He's was just being stupid and… jealous.'

Todd blinked. 'Jealous?'

'How often were you sending letters to Maggie?' Deirdre asked, with an almost imperceptible edge in her voice.

'Well,' Todd said, 'I didn't write to her since you and I got together, actually. Maggie, I'm sorry, I feel weirdly responsible… I could write to him, you know. Tell him that you and I are just friends, that I've got a... a girlfriend...'

Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say. Todd's reaction to all of this was really throwing her off. It made sense, though — he _was_ with Deirdre now. Before Maggie was even aware of what she was doing, she was already mentally comparing herself to the witch before her. Tall, blonde, put-together, elegant, refined.

Pureblood.

They clearly had history together. Maybe what Deirdre said wasn't so funny after all: It _was_ sort of a fairytale love story.

But, most importantly: Why did Maggie care? She shook her head to clear it.

'Er, no, thanks Todd. You don't have to do anything like that. _You_ weren't the problem; the problem was that Robbie thought it was acceptable to do something that awful. I could patch things up myself if I wanted to, but I don't want to.'

He nodded. 'Well. I'm really glad that Death Eaters aren't intercepting your letters.'

Maggie smiled weakly. 'Yeah. Just normal, stupid school drama, luckily. Well. I should be off. I really just meant for this to be a quick shopping trip, anyway. I'll need to get back to revising this afternoon.'

'Right. Well. Take care, Maggie... Will you be back in London for Easter?'

'Well...' She pulled a dubious face. 'Probably not, honestly. You know the Seventh Years always stay at school for Easter. It's the last solid block of time we'll get to really focus, before N.E.W.T.s start...'

'Oh yeah. Well...' Todd took a deep breath and grinned at Deirdre. 'Good luck, then. I guess we'll see you in the summer.'

'Yeah.' She stood up abruptly, and said a few more awkward goodbyes to the two of them. As she left, she couldn't help but look over her shoulder. Todd seemed to be imparting a few reassuring words to a nervous-looking Deirdre. Maggie turned away from them sharply as he leaned in to kiss her.


	33. The Slug Club

'Andra will stay, don't you think?'

'I think so. And Marty, of course.'

'Naturally. He's a machine, there's no way the department would survive without him.'

'But Winston? I'd be worried about my job, if I were him.'

'He's more reactive, instead of proactive. And that's been fine, for a time. But what with the merger — I'm sorry, are we boring you?'

Todd's mouth snapped shut. The conversation had been so dull that he hadn't even realised he was yawning, and he was now faced with the annoyed looks of three people: two up-and-coming employees with the Department of Magical Catastrophes plus Deirdre, who was trying to get in their good graces. If it weren't for Deirdre, he would've replied with something cheerfully sarcastic. But she was the whole reason he was at this dumb Slug Club party in the first place.

'Sorry, it's not you. I've, er, had some late nights.' He took another sip from his drink, but found it completely empty. 'Care for another one?' he said, pointing at Deirdre's glass.

She shot him a subtle annoyed look.

If poetry and love songs were to be believed, the best couples could read each other's thoughts with the briefest of eye contact. Was Todd simply not cut out to be that kind of boyfriend? Because Deirdre's thoughts were a mystery to him on a good day.

Todd cleared his throat to fill the awkward silence before he finally extricated himself from the group and ducked toward the drinks. He'd usually be happy to grab something at random, but the endless Ministry chatter was beginning to drive him mad. So he took his time looking over the bottles. They were old, intriguing, and appropriately expensive for Slughorn's taste. He picked up one, examining the intricate silver dragon that its maker had shaped around the bottle's neck.

'Excellent eye, Todd, excellent eye!' Todd nearly dropped the bottle as Slughorn seemingly appeared out of thin air to clap him on the shoulder. 'Somewhither Firewhisky. The pyromancy that its makers performed was so powerful that it burnt down the distillery. It was a nasty business, nasty business. Killed three of the workers inside, if I recall. But! The silver lining is that it did result in some truly spectacular Scotch whisky that, by nature of the unfortunate situation, is _incredibly_ rare,' Slughorn added, beaming. 'I was quite pleased to get my hands on this one. Shall we break into it?'

'Er…' Todd glanced at the bottle, more than a little deterred by the story, not to mention Slughorn's cheerful telling of it, but the professor was already conjuring him a glass.

'Here's to you, m'boy: a young man with a bright future, even in the face of troubled times,' Slughorn said, after he'd handed off a glass to Todd and raised his own. 'Most people here can only hope to carve out a life as safe and secure as yours is.'

'Too bad he never appreciates it,' said a familiar voice.

'Ah, Miss Gibson!' Slughorn said. Todd turned around, surprised to see Maggie smiling behind him and clutching a glass herself. 'Wonderful that you could come! You see, Todd, this is precisely why I wanted to hold this party in Hogsmeade: Let the Hogwarts students mingle with the successful and talented professionals. Of course,' he added to Maggie with a wink, 'not that you'd need the foot in the door, my dear. In most respects, you're already one of the young professionals here.'

'Professor Slughorn said he wanted another Ollivander's employee to "round out the guest list",' Maggie said. 'I told him I've no idea what that means, but I'm happy to take a break from revising regardless.'

'Todd, you really ought to speak to your father about occasionally attending one of my parties. I can never coax him out of his shop. I always tell Garrick what they say about all work and no play, but he's always busy with one thing or another. It's an open invitation as well — the Slug Club is sorely lacking in Ollivander's employees. Jack Coakley is always welcome. I'd even be happy to take Haeyoun Kim.'

'How hospitable of you.'

'Well,' Slughorn said cheerfully, 'I'll let you two catch up. Merlin's beard, two Ollivander's employees at a Slug Club party! I'd never thought I'd live to see the day!'

Todd frowned at the back of Slughorn's robes as he left to schmooze with someone else. 'It makes me irrationally angry that he's so chuffed to have us here,' he muttered.

'I can't believe he wore you down.'

'He didn't, really. Deirdre's looking for a job, and so she thought it'd be a good idea to come here. She's not wrong, probably,' he said, glancing back at the group he'd just left. Deirdre seemed to be charming them all. She said something that made the two Ministry people launch into animated chatter. Deirdre caught Todd's eye and shot him another indecipherable look that Todd couldn't make heads or tails of.

'If I drop dead today,' he said, taking a sip of his drink, 'I'm pretty sure it's because this firewhisky is cursed.'

'Er, okay.' Maggie grinned, puzzled, as she turned her attention to her own drink. She was wearing the same burgundy robes that she'd worn to the Christmas party, and Todd was trying to dismiss thoughts of Christmas, of hot chocolate and a movie playing softly on a television set.

And a sense of overwhelming hopelessness on the roof of the wand shop.

Todd gave an inadvertent sigh, his left hand automatically touching the outline of the vine wood wand, which he'd lately taken to carrying with him in the inside pocket of his outer robes since Coakley had given it back to him.

'What's the matter?'

'Oh… it's… I just hate that this firewhisky tastes so good.'

Maggie snorted. 'I really shouldn't be here,' she muttered to him. 'I should be revising. I'm _really_ worried about my Potions N.E.W.T. … Coakley told me they don't even care about potions at Ollivander's! You should've been clearer about which N.E.W.T.s I'd need, when I asked you about it two years ago.'

'Sorry.' Todd smiled apologetically. 'A Potions N.E.W.T. certainly doesn't _hurt_. We could use that kind of knowledge at the shop, honestly.'

'I don't think it would be such a good idea for anyone to rely on my potions knowledge. I'll just have to get through this; it'll all be over soon. So, er… ' Maggie said. Todd waited, but she seemed to be at a loss for words. 'So…you're…'

It had been a long time since things had been awkward between them, and Todd was surprised to see Maggie on inexplicably unsure footing. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he and she were actually close friends or not. He'd lately felt, after some of the conversations they'd had, that she knew him better than even Derek. But, the more he thought about it, he could count on two hands the number of times he had actually hung out with her.

It felt very odd for Todd to be the person who was at ease, watching someone else who seemed uneasy. Usually it was the other way round.

He cleared his throat and came to her rescue. 'Things at the shop have been —'

'So you're with Deirdre now?'

They had spoken at the same time, and it took Todd a second to register what Maggie had said. He was confused by the question; she knew they were together, after all. So, was she just prompting him to talk about it?

'Oh, yeah,' he said. 'Well, you know. We're meant for each other, according to… pretty much everyone. I think, when we first got together, we were a bit too young. But this time round, things feel... right. I think.'

'Mm.' Maggie was looking off into the distance.

'Yeah. I went round to the Fortescues' flat one night, and Deirdre was there. Just Deirdre. And when I went over there, I… I _think_ I knew why I was there, but it just seemed like she knew why I was there more than I did. And I never even needed to say anything, she just — she just knew. Knew what to say, knew what to… do…'

Maggie sighed and swayed slightly on the spot.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

'Oh yeah. I'm fantastic. Er, sorry. I drank a bit before coming to this party.'

'Oh. Oh!' Todd said, brightening. 'Brilliant. So you're already drunk, then!'

'I wouldn't say I'm _drunk_. I would say that I arrived here tipsy, and I've since had another glass of wine.'

Todd knocked back his drink in one swig. 'This is great news.'

'Is it?'

'Yes. I'm going to get to the place where you're at, which is the place I want to be, anyway,' he said, pouring himself another glass of Somewhither Firewhisky. 'Let's make sure these poor blokes who made this firewhisky didn't die in vain.'

* * *

'So. Look what I brought today.' He reached into his robes and pulled out the vine wood wand, twiddling it in his fingers so that golden sparks shot out of it. He adjusted his grip on it and tapped the bottom of Maggie's wine glass, turning it into a mouse that fell to the ground with a squeak.

'Oi! Did it look like I was done with that?'

'Ooh, your accent comes out when you're tipsy.'

'Talk about my accent one more time, Ollivander,' Maggie said, poking him with her own wand in mock annoyance.

'Very irresponsible, Gibson. Hasn't anyone ever told you it's dangerous to perform magic under the influence?'

'And I see you think you're above the rules, as usual,' Maggie said, reaching for the vine wood wand in his hand.

'How _dare_ you accuse me of being too pissed to do magic!' he said, gesturing with it to keep it out of her reach.

She jumped up, finally succeeding in snatching the wand out of his hand. 'Ha!' She tried to twiddle it between her fingers the way Todd had, but only managed in dropping it.

'Careful there.'

'So,' she said, stooping to pick it up, 'have you become more optimistic about this wand, then?'

'Not really.'

'Why not? It's clearly functioning.' She moved towards his whisky glass, tapping it just before he tried to wrench it out of reach. He groaned as she transfigured it into a dragonfly that flitted away.

'You couldn't reliably conjure a Patronus with it,' he said. 'So why should I trust it?'

'If you don't think it's worth its weight, then why are you carrying it around with you everywhere you go?'

He didn't seem to have an answer to that. He shook his head and changed the subject, frowning around the room. 'Now, where has she gotten off to?'

'I could be getting off with Slughorn, and you wouldn't know it,' Deirdre said archly, sidling up beside him, before adding, 'Todd dear, you must introduce me to your date.'

Todd coughed awkwardly. 'Sorry. Really, I am. I think I was annoying the crowd you were with. I wasn't nearly as entranced by their gripping conversation as they wanted me to be,' he said, lowering his voice and rolling his eyes in the direction of the Ministry employees.

'Yes Todd,' Deirdre said, 'this is not going to be the most captivating night of your life. I know it's _such_ torture for you. But —'

'That's for sure.'

'But maybe you can at least _pretend_ to be a polite person for a couple of hours _for my sake?'_ she hissed.

Todd opened his mouth, but then shut it, looking abashed.

'Er, Deirdre, how is your new place in Hogsmeade?' Maggie said, trying to ease the tension. 'Is it a lot different than living in London?'

'Well, I wouldn't know what it's like to live in _London_ ,' she said with a raised eyebrow. 'But yes, Hogsmeade is much different than Diagon Alley. There are the obvious things — it's colder, of course, and bigger. You always have to be aware of the Hogwarts weekends and plan around them. And it's nice when everyone in the village doesn't think of you as the little girl who they watched grow up. But the best thing is probably that Hogsmeade is far more distanced from the war than Diagon Alley, which is very nice.'

'Yeah, I'd imagine the absence of a Knockturn Alley has a lot to do with that… Deirdre, do you really not think of Diagon Alley as being _in London_?' Todd asked. 'Because it is, quite literally, in London.'

'Well,' Deirdre said, baffled, 'it's _inside_ London, but it's not _in_ London.'

Todd laughed. 'Of course it's in London! _Inside_ but not _in…_? That's anti-Muggle nonsense.'

 _'Anti-Muggle nonsense?_ It's not anti-Muggle nonsense to acknowledge the simple fact that we're separate.'

'You and I have ridden the tube together for years,' Todd said, ticking things off his fingers. 'We've gone to the same curry houses, we've spent hours in Charing Cross Library... How, in the name of Merlin, can you not think of yourself as a Londoner?'

'Because we didn't have the foggiest idea what half the things were that we saw when we'd go out to those places. Because those trips were _novelties._ A novelty,' she added, somewhat to herself, 'that clearly hasn't worn off for you yet.'

'To me,' Todd explained to Maggie, 'what makes Diagon Alley special is that we always have at least a toe in London, because it's just a tap-on-the-bricks away. I mean, for example, we have a greengrocer's in Diagon Alley, but loads of people pop by Tesco's all the time.'

'I wouldn't say _loads_ of people,' Deirdre said.

'And any time my dad wants to have a serious talk with me, we always end up walking through Green Park. And he can flag down a taxi as well as any Londoner can.' Maggie smiled at this thought and, for some reason, began to picture Todd in his green jumper, whistling at a black cab. For so many years, she had been more than happy to leave London behind and explore her newfound hidden, magical wizarding world, but she realised suddenly that she'd been missing her city. And she'd love to see it through Todd's eyes, through the eyes of someone who appreciated it in a way she never had, who thought of Muggle London as… well… magical.

'Now, granted,' Todd continued, 'sometimes Diagon Alley's residents walk through London and conclude that they hate Muggles just because they see some some rough sleepers or because someone tried to mug them. To be quite honest… I think that's why Diagon Alley _has_ a Knockturn Alley and Hogsmeade doesn't. But I do think that so many wizards have come to appreciate Muggles because of Diagon Alley's proximity to London. The wizarding wireless, magical photography, wizarding rock bands — those all came out of Diagon Alley, and you'd be daft to deny that London wasn't a direct influence on… I'm sorry, are you _rolling your eyes_?' Todd said incredulously to Deirdre.

'You fancy yourself such a Muggle sympathizer,' Deirdre said, 'but you're just as baffled by them as I am. Go fly in an aeroplane, let's see how confident you are with Muggles then.'

'Oh, you mean the method of transport that's vastly less likely than Apparition to result in injury?'

'Fine. Go buy a bloody ticket then,' Deirdre muttered. Maggie, beginning to feel uneasy again, wondered if now might be a good time to refill her drink.

'Is that why you haven't looked into travelling to the States yet?' Todd said. 'You're afraid to take an aeroplane? Because, look, I know it's scary, but it would be far cheaper than the series of Portkeys you'd have to sort to get to all the wizarding ports across the Atlantic, and I bet you already have enough saved up at this point if you were to take a plane instead —'

' _I can't believe you!'_ Deirdre said, her temper and voice rising. Even Maggie had to marvel at Todd's cluelessness. 'I _told_ you I'd scrapped that plan! I _want_ to stay here with _you_ , but clearly I'm an idiot for thinking you wanted the same thing!'

'I-I'm sorry, Deirdre,' Todd said, lowering his voice and leaning in toward his girlfriend, away from Maggie. His gaze kept darting up to meet Deirdre's before he'd look nervously at the ground, then back at Deirdre. 'I just don't think you should assume that we'll… that this is… I-I'm not sure it's wise to base your plans around…'

'You're such a prat, you know that?' Deirdre said, her voice breaking. Maggie, embarrassed, began to back away from them, something she probably should have done a while ago. 'You think that I'm this conniving, manipulative person — don't you dare shake your head at me, Todd Ollivander, the things you and Derek said after we broke up got back to me, you absolute tosser — but _you're_ the one who's using _me_! I actually _like_ you, you know —'

'Do you, though?' Todd asked, still speaking in that uncomfortable, quiet voice, as if urging her to do the same. 'Do you actually like me? Every time I voice an opinion, you seem to be biting back a retort or an eyeroll, and lately, you only seem to want to hang out with me when we're around other people. Do you really think we're a good match, honestly? Or are you just confused because everyone insists that we are?'

Deirdre was glaring at him, blinking back tears. 'Maybe I have been realising that,' she admitted furiously, 'but you knew it all along, didn't you?'

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the rented-out room of Madam Puddifoot's, in the wake of several nervous giggles and raised eyebrows at the party. Todd was left standing in the middle of the room, looking rattled and ashamed. Maggie stood awkwardly off to the side for a while, unsure what to do until, finally, she took pity on Todd, who had not moved from his spot as people continued to shoot looks at each other. She grabbed a glass of mead off a table and brought it to him.

'I don't deserve that,' he muttered as she offered him the drink.

'That's fine, that's fine,' she coaxed. 'Let's just get you out of the, er, spotlight here a bit…'

'The what?' he said dully as he let her lead him off to the side of the room.

'You know, Todd, you really are a far cry from a Muggle expert,' Maggie said, trying not to laugh, but her smiled evaporated when she could see just how miserable he looked. Maggie could've sworn that the gramophone that was playing music suddenly grew louder, as if it were charmed specifically to distract party-goers from sudden awkward moments. She wouldn't put it past Slughorn.

She turned to Todd. 'Do you want to leave?'

'Yeah.' He sighed, glancing around at the people who were surreptitiously looking over at the two of them. 'Let's get out of here.'

* * *

'Do you want me to walk you back?' Todd said, gazing out at the long path that led to Hogwarts, most of it shrouded in darkness at this point of the night.

'Sure. Thanks.'

In the cold April night air, Maggie pulled a knit cap over her head and Todd shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as they started the trek. They walked in silence for a while, listening to a flurry of soft hoots from the occupants of the Hogwarts and Hogsmeade owleries who had taken flight to hunt.

Darkness settled around them as they left the lanterns of Hogsmeade behind and made their way down the path towards the castle. Though there wasn't enough moonlight to make out Todd's face, there was a heaviness about him, in the way that he walked, the way that he hung his head.

Maggie strained her ears, trying to memorise the nighttime sounds of the Hogwarts grounds that she'd be leaving in just a couple months. The Whomping Willow twitched and swayed slightly as they passed it, its leaves rustling in the windless night.

'Are you okay?' she said softly.

'I'll be fine.' He responded in a quiet, brisk voice that seemed to suggest that she should drop it. So she was surprised, as she was racking her brains for a good Quidditch conversation topic, that he continued a few minutes later.

'I _was_ using her,' he murmured. 'She was right, when I look at it from her perspective… I never meant to hurt her.'

'You know… you could probably… try to go after her,' Maggie said haltingly. 'She might —'

'I don't want to go after her. That's the thing. I never should've started another relationship with her. Not when my very first thought was, "Well… this'll be short-lived". What was I thinking?' He paused. 'I guess I thought I'd be the one to get hurt. Not her.'

'You do always think of yourself as a bit of an underdog.' Maggie worked to bite back a smile, even though she knew Todd couldn't see it. 'And that's not really the reality.'

'Then why does my whole life just feel like a series of fuck-ups?'

Maggie doubted Todd felt like patiently listening as she explained to him why that was ridiculous. Still, as they ascended the stone steps and stopped at the great oak doors of the castle entrance, Maggie knew she couldn't let him leave, not yet. Not on this note.

'I've still got quite a bit further to go. Sure you wouldn't want to walk me up to Ravenclaw Tower?'

'Oh.' He sounded surprised. 'Oh, erm... hm. Sure, it'd be kind of fun to walk through the castle again. Why not?'

'Do you miss it?' Maggie asked as he pulled the door open.

'Miss what?'

'Hogwarts,' she said, chuckling as she walked through.

Todd seemed to ponder this for a bit as he followed her inside, the door closing slowly behind them. He took in the entrance hall, glancing at the suits of armour and the portraits on the wall. 'In my own way, yes. Probably in a different way than most people.'

'How's that?'

'I always just felt like a visitor here,' he said, motioning for her to lead the way up the marble steps. 'It never quite felt like home to me. But it was a nice visit, for the three years I was here. Coming back is like returning somewhere you went on holiday. Or… maybe more like a work trip, actually. It's like, "Oh, this place! I remember this place. I nearly died of sleep deprivation here, but it was still quite nice".'

'Oh dear. Can a person die of sleep deprivation? Oh well, I s'ppose I'll find out this year.'

'N.E.W.T. revision going well?' he asked with a grin.

She sighed. 'I've always been rubbish at revising. I spend far too much time looking over the stuff that's interesting to me — the stuff that, honestly, I already know perfectly well — and I drag my feet when it comes to the dull material.'

'Yeah.' Todd grinned to himself as they made their way up a second staircase. 'I remember one time I found you in the common room in the middle of the night, practising Apparition, spinning on the spot like a deranged top. I was still at school at the time, so I doubt you were anywhere close to taking your test at that point.'

'That's right — I'd completely forgotten about that! Oh god, I was obsessed with Apparition in Fifth Year. Frank and Alice were preparing for their test at the time, and I loved poring over the books they had. There was this really good one — _Closing the Distance_ , I think it was called. It taught me to think about Apparition in a way that was so much better than anything I learnt once I finally had lessons. I even, er —' she said, wincing guiltily '— I even did a bit of Apparition in Hogsmeade in my Fifth Year. I wanted to test out what I'd read, and you know, you can't Apparate inside Hogwarts, so —'

'Jesus, Maggie!' Todd said, laughing so loudly in disbelief that Maggie was worried they'd attract attention from a prefect or a professor patrolling the corridors. 'That's, erm, that's… wow. That's… impressive,' he conceded finally, still grinning. 'And so, so stupid.'

'Well, that's me, in a nutshell.'

'Yes.' Todd chuckled to himself. 'Yes, it is.'

Maggie moved to climb another staircase, but Todd grabbed her arm gently. 'Wait. Wait, hang on, just… give me a… minute…'

'Out of breath already?'

'So many… bloody… staircases…'

'That is the downside of Apparition. Before you know it, you're completely out of shape,' she teased.

'No reasonable person should be expected to walk this much. This castle's massive, I'd completely forgotten…' He put his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

She grinned down at him from the second step as he straightened up, eyeing her ruefully. There was something about the way that he held her gaze that made her breath catch, and she found herself saying, 'Your life is not a series of fuck-ups.'

'Oh really.'

'Yes, really.' She moved closer to him.

'Then why can't you conjure a Patronus with the wand I made?'

She blinked, then pulled back indignantly, surprised at this response. Todd opened his mouth, then shut it, looking confused at her closeness, but he continued on, determined. 'Can you just…' He took off his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hands, shaking his head as if baffled with every aspect of his life. 'Can you just walk me through exactly what happened when it worked, so I can figure out what was different then and what's different now?'

Maggie shook her head, exasperated. 'It's _completely_ mental that your _entire_ opinion of this wand is hinging on this one spell! I hope this isn't common procedure for Ollivander's, for a wandsmith to determine whether he's made a good wand by having the youngest apprentice try to perform some particularly tricky magic with it!'

'Just explain the situation to me! I'm so confused about all this, I don't understand why you're not as interested as I am to get to the bottom of —'

'Look, I don't like to show people my Patronus, all right?'

Todd stopped talking, then frowned, the word 'what?' playing on his lips. 'I don't — what? You don't like to show people your Patronus? I don't understand.'

' _Please,_ Todd, it'll work if you conjure a Patronus, assuming you can. Go on then, just — you try, all right?'

'I'm sorry, I'm not following… Look,' he said, tentatively reaching into his robes, 'why don't _you_ try again? I'd just like to see you try, I do think it'll help me better understand this wand's tendencies.'

'Please, no, stop,' she said, pushing away the offered wand.

'Maggie,' Todd said, looking completely befuddled, ' _what_ is going on?'

'I just don't like to show people my Patronus,' she repeated.

'Why…?' Todd said, a small smile playing on his face. 'What, you don't like the animal?'

Maggie shook her head at the ceiling, cross and exasperated.

'What, is it a cow, or something?' Todd joked. 'Maggie, come on. I promise I won't laugh. This is silly.'

Maggie wrenched the wand out of his hand, and he took a startled step back.

Some kinds of magic were all about bringing your mind into a white room that could easily erase any sort of chaotic emotions that you were currently feeling, a room that could serve as a container for another emotion that you needed to bring to the forefront. Somewhere where you could temporarily function over the delusion that you had any control over your emotions, your depressions, your frenzied thoughts and fears. The Patronus Charm was hardly the only spell that required this level of focus. And so Maggie pushed out her insecurities and anxieties, her feelings of uselessness and despair, and remembered times in the park with Alice, Frank and Simon. Of Simon reenacting scenes from 'The Blues Brothers' and the three of them idiotically trying to following his lead. Of Frank acting uncharacteristically goofy because they'd all had a bit to drink. Of Alice and Maggie shrieking and laughing as they ran down the street, back to the flat in the East End.

' _Expecto Patronum_ ,' she whispered, and her Patronus's wings expanded out of her wand, before the bird burst forth and took flight. Todd, mouth slightly agape, watched it glide swiftly down the Hogwarts corridor, almost out of sight, until it turned and began to fly back towards them. Todd turned to face her with an expression of slight awe.

'Maggie,' he breathed, 'it's an _eagle_.'

The Patronus vanished instantly as she felt her stomach twist. 'I know what you're thinking, Todd,' she said warningly.

'Well... you must see the significance, right?' he demanded eagerly. 'It's the Ravenclaw mascot!'

She shook her head at him, even though he hadn't said anything that was wrong.

'Do you think… All these rumours, I never put any stock in them, but, Maggie, I really think you might be...' he trailed she shook her head at him miserably, discouraging him from jumping to the conclusion that he was jumping to.

'Oh come on!' he continued enthusiastically. 'Aren't you at least somewhat interested? You could be a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw! Don't you find that exciting?'

'Exciting? Of course I found it exciting!' Maggie said, and Todd leaned in, concern filling his eyes as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

'Maggie, Maggie,' he coaxed, hesitating before he began to softly rub her arms, shaking his head as he searched her eyes. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I… Blimey, I've made two girls cry in one night, I'm just absolutely useless, aren't I? At least the first time I knew what I'd done...'

'The rumours started my Second Year,' she said, struggling and failing to keep her voice even. She sank to sit on stairs, and Todd crouched beside her. 'P-people said I looked just like the Grey Lady, and th-that I-I might… I _could_ be… since I was so good in Charms… And then, in Sixth Year, I taught myself the Patronus Charm, and it just seemed… it seemed so… _magical._ And loads of people were saying I might be this long lost descendant. Why would so many people come to the same conclusion?

'There _are_ still living descendants,' she continued. 'Did you know that?' Todd simply shook his head, watching her carefully. 'Lots of people don't. B-but Rosaria Ravenclaw lives in Paris, just a short train ride from London. S-so I wrote to her, explaining my thoughts, and — and what everyone was saying. But she never wrote back. So… I went to see her.' A couple of sobs escaped from Maggie's mouth, and Todd, looking unsure what to do, placed one of his hands tentatively on her back as she talked into her hands. 'It was so stupid. I have _no earthly idea_ what I was thinking. It just… it just all made sense in my head. That I was this long lost princess, seeking out her destiny. That it would all be so clear the moment she opened the door. But, instead, I just looked… I must've looked completely _mental!_ This disheveled, teenaged British tourist, showing up at her doorstep. I was so relieved at the time that she spoke English, but looking back I wish she hadn't! I would've had to just turn around and go home. But I explained everything to her, it all tumbled out of my mouth like a babbling idiot, and she invited me in for coffee.

'As I laid everything out, I realized just how thin and _stupid_ all my so-called "evidence" was. I have curly hair? I look like a ghost? I have an eagle Patronus? I must have looked _so_ pathetic… She explained that, if I plucked a strand of my hair, she could perform a charm…'

'The Progeniture Charm,' Todd muttered.

'You're familiar with it? I had never heard of it before.'

'It's fairly common knowledge among people who come from old wizarding lines.' Todd sighed. 'The charm's a bit dated, but it's come back into fashion since the beginning of the war. It's… it's become commonplace for Muggle-borns to say they're descended from certain families, and the worst families… well, they try to immediately prove it or disprove it, unfortunately…

'Back in the twenties,' he continued, 'my grandfather took in a Muggle-born wizard. He lied and said that the Progeniture Charm had proven that he was descended from the Ollivander line, and nobody questioned it. I don't understand why more people don't do that.'

'So it's legitimate?' Maggie asked, soaking up a tear with one of her knuckles. 'She couldn't have falsified the results?'

Todd watched her for a moment before he asked, 'What incantation did she use?'

' _Genea,'_ Maggie whispered.

'And what happened?'

'The strand turned to dust.'

'No,' he said gently. 'No. You couldn't falsify that result.'

Maggie opened her mouth to say something, but her breath caught in her throat and turned to soft sobs.

'Oh Maggie… Maggie… That stuff's not important, you know it's not…'

'It felt just like… it felt just like this day I found my dad and went to see him, a couple of years ago…' she said into her hands. 'I found him, he didn't even live that far from me and Simon… And Simon told me not to, and I should've known better, but I thought… I thought he could've been… a wizard. It was a theory I'd had for years. When Flitwick showed up to speak to me and Simon for the first time, it just all made so much sense, that my dad left us because he was part of some great wizarding world that he couldn't share with us. But I was part of it now! And when I knocked on his door, it all happened so differently from the way I'd played it over and over in my head. I thought he'd be overjoyed and ask me what House I'd been sorted into and ask about all the accidental magic I'd performed that he'd missed and he'd apologise so much… But Todd… oh, I think I violated the Statute of Secrecy so badly… I knocked on his door and I was just babbling and babbling and babbling, but he looked at me like I was mad…. I don't know why I kept going… It just didn't make sense, in my mind, for him to not know about the wizarding world, because I'd imagined that he had for so long… Well, after that disaster, I did what I should've done from the beginning… As soon as term started, I looked up his name in the Hogwarts rolls, and my mum's name, just to be sure. No Gibsons. No Ardells. Not a one. I've looked for the names of aunts and uncles, of distant cousins. Nothing. I thought that, maybe, just maybe I – I could be special. I so badly wanted to be a long-lost descendant of a long line of wizards, like so many people said I might be. People would whisper about it all the time. They'd ask me what I knew about my parents, if I was a "proper" orphan. They really thought I was descended from Rowena Ravenclaw. But I'm not.' Her voice broke. 'I just come from drunks and junkies.'

Maggie crashed her head into Todd's shoulder a little harder than she meant to as she broke down crying.

'I'm s-sorry,' she said. 'I think it's the wine.'

Todd chuckled softly. 'Oh — oh, Maggie,' he said, 'if I told someone to buck up and to stop feeling sorry for themselves, I'd be the biggest bloody hypocrite, and you know that better than anyone. You wallow as much as you need to.'

She felt like an idiot as she shook against him with her eyes closed, getting snot on his robes. A weird undercurrent of shame also rippled through her. She was keenly aware of the situation, that Todd had existed for about 20 minutes without a girlfriend before she'd thrown herself at him like this.

Not like she _was_ throwing herself at him, but it would sort of look like that to an outside observer — such as, say, Deirdre — and that alone was enough to make Maggie feel sort of desperate and pathetic.

But maybe he didn't care. Maybe he didn't care for her in that way anymore, even with Deidre out of the picture. He was patting her shoulder the way that a friend would, rather than someone who was feeling the same little jolts that she was as he touched her.

He twisted under her, digging in his right pocket suddenly. Maggie expected him to pull out a handkerchief, but her doubts were underscored when he instead fished out a pocket watch that he seemed to be trying to look at discreetly.

She started crying a little harder. Oh god. Maybe it really _was_ the wine.

'I'm so sorry, Todd, you can go,' she said thickly, wiping her face and trying to regain a shred of her dignity. 'I know you've had a shit day. You've probably been wanting to go to the pub this whole time, but instead I roped you in to listening to my stupid little story, I don't know what I —'

'No no no no no,' he said, shaking his head emphatically, 'I'm just worried about curfew! You'll get into trouble being out of bed this late, won't you?'

'Y-yeah… I guess…'

'C'mon,' he said with a smile, helping her to her feet and leading her up the stairs. 'Let's get you out of these drafty corridors and into a nice, warm bed. You just need a full night's rest. And probably a break from the kinds of people who frequent Slug Club parties…'

He helped her up the stairs, but then dropped his arm as they continued on through the castle. He walked by her side, but neither of them said much, and this time the silence felt much more awkward than when they'd first left Hogsmeade. Todd kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye, and Maggie was calling herself all sorts of names in her head as she kicked herself for breaking down like that.

Todd came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the staircase that led to Ravenclaw Tower, whirling around to face her. Maggie was confused by the sudden intensity of the look on his face.

'Listen. Maggie.' He looked so deadly serious that Maggie didn't know what to make of it. 'I'm sure the last thing you want to hear right now is a lecture from a Pureblood wizard about how blood doesn't matter, about how being descended from an ancient line of renowned wizards isn't all it's cracked up to be,' he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. 'I'm sure you think that I won't understand, that I don't know what it's like. And I don't. But I have to tell you, before I leave, that… that I think… that I bet loads of Rowena Ravenclaw's descendents are as dumb as bricks.'

Maggie blinked. She coughed out a short laugh in surprise and confusion. 'Ah… okay…'

He shook his head, frustrated. 'I'm not making myself clear… Look. The wizarding world has all this respect for the Ollivander family, and we've benefited from that assumption that we're special, make no mistake. But… but people are _idiots_ to assume that! Because that's not how families work! You can pass on characteristics, sure, and your parents might have similar values that their parents did, but to expect that every single person in the family has the same passions, the same work ethic, the same drive, generation after generation? It's absurd! The Ollivanders have had more than our fair share of idiots and… what… oh, Christ, what, in the name of Merlin's leaking, flaccid knob am I trying to say…?'

Maggie was trying, and failing, not to laugh as he bent down and gripped her shoulders. Todd was laughing as well, the serious look on his face cracking.

'You're not a very good speech-maker,' she said.

'No one ever lets me talk for this long,' he said with a grin. 'Right. _This_ is what I'm trying to say: people have likened you to Rowena Ravenclaw because you are _like_ her, and that is higher praise than being related to her. You impressed so many people with your skills and your abilities that when they noticed that you _sort of_ looked like this intelligent witch from ages past, they said, "Well, she's got to be a long-lost Ravenclaw, hasn't she?" You have _earned_ all the esteem surrounding you, and isn't that so much better than inheriting it?

'I mean — take Coakley, for example. Coakley doesn't work at Ollivander's because he was raised to work there, like a knobhead like me. He works there because he's a great wizard, because he walked in our front door, decades ago, and impressed my grandad with his brains and his magic. And isn't that something to be far prouder of, and isn't it… oh, bollocks… and now you're crying again. Let me ask you, Maggie, have you ever met anyone who did a _worse_ job of trying to cheer someone up before? Because if there were some sort of annual Social Idiots awards, I think I'd sweep them every single —'

He broke off mid-sentence because she had laughed wetly, wiped her face, and moved his hands from her shoulders. But she hadn't let go, and now she was holding his hands. He looked confused, and she wasn't even entirely sure herself what she was doing.

'So… er… do you want to watch hours of mindless telly?' he said, cracking a nervous smile as his silver eyes searched her own. Had his breathing quickened just now, or was he still out of breath after walking through the long corridors and winding staircases of the castle?

She laughed again. 'I'm not exactly sure how we'd go about that at Hogwarts.'

'True.'

'And you've done a pretty good job of cheering me up, anyway,' she said softly, and without even thinking, she leaned forward, his hands still in hers, and kissed him — once. Slowly. To Maggie's slight horror, he didn't kiss her back. Worried that she had made a very, very stupid assumption, she sucked in a mortified breath and began to pull back.

But then his hands snaked around her waist, and he pulled her lips back to his with a rough intake of breath, and silver sparks crackled out of the vine wood wand she was still holding as she threw her arms around his neck.

* * *

Sweet mother of Merlin.

This was nice.

It didn't make any sense. But it was nice.

Within the span of about two hours, Todd had gotten mildly pissed, had been dumped, had seen Maggie produce a brilliant Patronus with a wand that he was slowly beginning to understand might actually work perfectly if wielded with the right mindset, had accidentally made Maggie burst into tears, and now… now he was pulling her closer to him while her tiniest, quietest moans reverberated from the nape of her neck all the way up to his lips.

He was having trouble understanding what she could possibly see in him. But critical thinking was not really a priority right now.

As they swayed on the spot at the base of the staircase to Ravenclaw Tower, he wasn't really aware of what he was doing with his lips or his hands, or what she was doing with her arms or her knees or her — well sure, he was aware that she was threading one of her hands through his hair at the base of his neck, and, wow, right, he was aware that her breasts were brushing up against his chest as she breathed. And he was vaguely aware that he was making the occasional soft, rough, inadvertent noise that she seemed to be responding enthusiastically to.

But mostly he was just aware that this was the best day of his stupid life.

They drifted over to one side of the corridor, and as he pressed her softly against the stone wall and his lips had the audacity to begin descending down her neck — god, these soft noises of hers were making him absolutely dizzy — they heard someone clear his throat.

'Professor Slughorn!' Maggie sputtered, automatically pushing Todd back slightly.

Todd loosened his grip but stopped short of pulling away entirely. 'S-sir, I was just… making sure Maggie got back… safely.'

'I can see that, Todd,' Slughorn said, who looked both disapproving and amused, 'but you must realise that this behaviour is entirely inappropriate.'

'Yes… Sorry.'

'Miss Gibson, I'll have to dock twenty points from Ravenclaw for lingering in the corridors after curfew, and Mr Ollivander, I'll escort you out now, if you please.'

Todd nodded as he pulled a flustered hand through his hair and straightened his glasses. 'We should… talk about this,' he muttered to Maggie. 'Yeah? I'll write to you?' A smile crept out through the mortified expression on her face as she nodded, and he found himself unconsciously mirroring her like an idiot.

' _Mr Ollivander?'_

'Right, lead the way,' he said brusquely. He was unable to keep himself from whispering a soft 'bye' to Maggie as he walked away.

'Bye,' she echoed, looking very happy, very embarrassed, and very much his favourite person.

Slughorn raised his eyebrows and gestured for Todd to hurry along now. Todd tried to straighten the collar of his robes — not to mention his addled brain — as he followed him down the darkened corridor.

'Merlin's beard, Todd,' Slughorn said, once the two of them had descended a couple of staircases. 'Two students messing about in the corridors in the middle of the night is bad enough, but an adult wizard fooling around with a student in the castle is —'

'I know,' he said gruffly. 'I realise that. I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention.'

The two of them walked in silence for a bit, their footsteps echoing down the corridors, until Slughorn spoke up again.

'You do always seem to break hearts at every party you attend,' he said, chuckling.

'Er… hardly.'

'Well, every time I've had the pleasure of your company, you are always the source of one passionate outburst or another,' he said heartily, clapping Todd on the shoulder like they were old school chums. 'It's no surprise; I've heard that no young man from a Sacred 28 family can avoid a little romantic turmoil, regardless of whether he instigates it. And you're still young yet. There's no reason not to, er, shall we say, weigh your options…'

Todd was barely listening to Slughorn's asinine ramblings, his mind still reeling from all the events of the evening. He realised belatedly that he was vaguely nodding along to what Slughorn was saying with a dazed smile on his face, which Slughorn was clearly taking as encouragement.

They made their way through the castle's front doors and out onto the grounds. Todd pulled his cloak tighter around him as they walked in the cold.

'Er, sorry sir, remind me again where the school's boundaries end, so I can Disapparate?'

'Ah, just a bit further. You know, now that you've found time to come to a Slug Club party now and then, I'd love to have you at the next gathering over the summer… I've been mulling the idea of some sort of garden party… '

'Ah… maybe. I'll have to see…'

' _TODD_!'

The two of them looked up, startled, to see Maggie sprinting across the grass, holding something aloft in her hand.

Todd gave a puzzled smile. 'All right?' he called back.

'Why is she holding her wand up like that?' Slughorn asked, baffled.

'Oh!' Todd said, clapping a hand to his forehead as he realised why she was racing this way. 'Maggie has my vine wood wand!'

'Does she now?'

'Merlin, that would've been bad.' Todd grinned as she made her way across the grounds. 'Stay there! I'll come to you.'

But Slughorn caught Todd's arm as he moved to meet her halfway.

'Er, sir? Seems rude to have her run all the way here, doesn't it?'

'I'm afraid this is too perfect an opportunity to pass up.'

'Sorry?' Todd frowned as he moved to wrench his arm free from Professor Slughorn's grasp, but it only tightened.

Wait.

But Slughorn _wasn't_ a professor anymore.

What had he been doing in the castle?

Todd's eyes widened in fear; the alarm bells in his head were going off far, far too late.

He moved far more forcefully this time to shake off Slughorn's grip. The two of them scuffled for a second, but the older man twisted on the spot, and the last thing Todd heard before they disappeared was Maggie's scream.


End file.
